


no good deed

by hanjisungsslut



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Fluff, Han Jisung | Han is Oblivious, Han Jisung | Han-centric, High School AU, I forgot how to tag, Kisses, Lee Minho | Lee Know is a Sweetheart, M/M, Zombie AU, Zombie Apocalypse, and whipped, badass hyunjin, he’s whipped, its a zombie au but nobody dies, jisung edgy boy, minsung bingo, no major character injury or death, zombie au but make it fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:27:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 36,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25789570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanjisungsslut/pseuds/hanjisungsslut
Summary: The end of the world.Everybody knew it was coming, just perhaps not like this.Han Jisung was seventeen when the apocalypse started. After leaving behind everything he knew to escape the repercussions, he became perfectly content with being alone for the rest of his days.The problem in his plan came with the arrival of Lee Minho, an old classmate with a optimistic personality and a smiling face.Jisung didn’t want people, didn’t want friends. But the end of the world doesn’t allow for wants.One good deed changes everything. And no good deed goes unpunished.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 40
Kudos: 307
Collections: MINSUNG BINGO: Round One





	no good deed

**Author's Note:**

> I know what you’re thinking. “Kenzi, you’ve been telling us since checkmate dropped that we’re getting a fighter au and an angst au, what is this mess?” Good question, but bold of you to assume I can retain thoughts.
> 
> This is a long authors note ahead so if you don’t care, here are the TW:
> 
> \- mild gore (this IS a zombie au)  
> \- mild blood  
> \- mentions of death  
> \- injury 
> 
> Also!! Side ships are up to you to decide, as I literally couldn’t decide what I wanted to do so I just decided no ❤️. As always, no negative comments, and please be mindful of current events in the world right now, it’s always good to be in the know about the things that surround and affect us. 
> 
> This is for MinsungBingo!! These are the prompts filled:
> 
> \- zombie AU  
> \- high school AU  
> \- kisses  
> \- time skips.
> 
> Here is the link to their twitter! https://twitter.com/minsungbingo

Humans have a lot of sayings that don’t really say anything.

“All good things must come to an end” is one that comes to mind. It basically just means that nothing lasts forever. Depressing, but it’s not a revolutionary concept. It doesn’t have some deep and unheard of meaning, it just sounds fancier than saying “nothing lasts forever.”

“Seeing red” just means you’re mad. That one is self-explanatory. No meaning, other than that some douche years and years ago decided red is the color of violence for some reason. And everybody just believed him.

“No good deed goes unpunished” doesn’t even have a deeper meaning, because it’s bullshit. Maybe it’s the word “unpunished” that throws it off. Why would you be punished for a good deed? Why would you want to be? “Punish” has a negative connotation, you mean the inventors of the language didn’t even understand the shit they made up? 

It’s also a lie because good deeds do go unpunished, all the time. More so than not, a good deed doesn’t mean getting something in return. Then again, if the only reason you do a good deed is to get something in return, you didn’t really do a good deed. 

Besides, when he heard the phrase “all good things must come to an end,” Jisung hadn’t exactly pictured the world being one of those things. Partially because the world wasn’t considered a “good” thing to him in the first place, but it was definitely better than what he lived now. 

When he heard “seeing red,” his mind didn’t automatically present the visual of bloody flesh hanging from the teeth and gnawed lips of a stumbling corpse. Nor did he imagine the very same substance coating his kitchen walls from floor to ceiling when his parents inevitably became one of the stumbling corpses. 

Though, when he heard “no good deed goes unpunished,” he couldn’t say his mental image was far off. Mostly because it was disappointment and he wasn’t a stranger to the feeling. Also, because a “good deed” was a subjective thing. A good deed to him may be at the expense of another person, therefore tons go unpunished every day. 

Besides, it didn’t matter now. None of it did. Now, there was no one left around to do good deeds for and disappointment was a part of waking up each morning. 

It wasn’t as big of a shock as it should’ve been, honestly. The media loved to play with the idea, milking several movies and shows out of the concept of a horrible event too far-fetched to ever be reality. Oh, how he would love to see the faces of every producer who had ever rolled their eyes and said “another zombie movie?”

Unlike a lot of the media based on it, they knew how it started. 

The explosion of a chemistry lab in the far north released several dangerous chemicals into the air at once. Every worker was supposed to have died on the scene. Except for one.

The reason for the explosion? An eager scientist with far too much time on his hands. He had injected himself with what he believed to be a cure for every disease known to man. He planned to turn it into the ultimate vaccine.

The only problem was the formula imbalance. In order to make a cure, there has to be a little of the virus itself within the mixture and he had overestimated just how much. The chemicals collided and his brain began to eat itself. Gross, right? 

Every single limb of his body began to rot, flesh falling off his bones like meat on a slab, his own organs were busting inside of him and when he did finally collapse and die, his mangled corpse scared another worker terribly. She fell into the other chemicals and a chain reaction began.

Fire caught from the mix and the heat busted bottles of several other chemicals as well. No one is sure which one it was, but the chemicals within the scientist’s rotting brain and the chemicals that spilled on the floor and reached his body had stuck his exposed nerves and thus, walking corpse.

He bit the first rescuer on the scene and his saliva transferred the virus into the open wound. Within minutes, the entire crew was infected or dead. Or both. Haha.

It spread from there, until it was too out of control to get a handle on. They were ordered to stay in quarantine, but hardly anyone listened. And that’s how the world ended up the way it was now, post-apocalypse. 

There wasn’t really any fancy names for them, Jisung just called them “zombies,” though the official report had described them as “rotters.” He wouldn’t be surprised if that’s what anyone else alive called them. 

What they were called wasn’t really the big point. Zombies, walkers, rotters, biters, whatever other variation of the name, it all meant the same thing. Everything meant death.

After his own parents, Jisung never linked up with anybody. His own house was impossible to live in, so he relocated to the safe shelter the town had set up. They ran out of food quickly and Jisung had packed up and left before things had gotten bad. 

He stayed in the storm shelter next, one of the first to think of the food regularly stocked on the shelves in the underground lair. It did alright for a few weeks, but it wasn’t ideal. Being in the ground made it far too complicated to get in and out quickly and it was terribly suffocating. 

Even two years later, he still remembered the day it all began, the first time the word “rotter” was uttered to the public.

It was cold, as it usually was, in Mrs. Kwon’s eleventh grade history class. She kept it cold most of the time, much to the dismay of her students. She often joked that it was symptom of age, not that an assembly of elder teenagers would understand such a thing. 

She was preaching about some meaningless topic nobody bothered to pay much attention to, immersed in her own teachings far beyond the interest of any student. They were required to take notes, though most notebooks sat blank on the wooden desk, while others filled to the margins with mindless doodles. It was the sound of an incoming email, the sharp ping, that Jisung would never forget. 

He watched, curious and yet simultaneously bored out of his mind, as she sat behind her desk, lifted a pair of spotty glasses to her face and received possibly the worst news she could have imagined in her 45 years of life. 

It was chaos from that moment on. Students were gathered in the gymnasium, pressed tightly onto bleachers with their shoulders and thighs eliminating every bit of possible space. The principal stood before them, his expression grim as he dismissed the student drivers first. It was confusion for all of them, no explanation being provided other than the worried faces of the staff and the urgency to remove them from campus.

Among the sea of bodies attempting to exit the building at once, a familiar face stuck out to him. He descended the bleachers as quickly as he could to catch up to his— well, not really a friend, but as close as he’d ever come. 

Adam was a teacher’s assistant, he wasn’t even a student, yet the panic and uncertainty on his face made him look every bit as young as those he planned to teach. He was heading for the door too, jaw set and eyebrows pinched. Jisung caught his shoulder before he made it too far.

He spun around, taken off guard by the sudden touch, but gathered his bearings just as quickly. He forced a small smile upon seeing his favorite high schooler, though even he couldn’t make it reach his eyes. The most terrifying thing about that day wasn’t the outbreak, it wasn’t the lockdown, it was watching the most put-together and poised person he knew be completely lost.

“Hey Jisung.” His voice was distant, his body standing just before him yet his mind thousand of years away. Adam was a thinker, he had been from the moment Jisung met him, but the look in his eye was nothing like Jisung had ever seen. He was quiet. Too quiet.

“What’s going on?” Han Jisung, never one to beat around any metaphorical bush. His question only seemed to further deepen the crease in between Adam’s eyebrows, his frown turning down impossibly more-so. 

“I don’t know. Something has happened, something big. The president did a speech.” He fished his phone out of his pocket, clicking away before presenting his phone to Jisung.

“President Confirms Deadly Virus and Existence of “Rotters” Following Lab Explosion.”

“You mean this has something to do with the lab that caught fire a few days ago? How could that be a national emergency?”

Adam turned and began walking for the exit, knowing Jisung would follow. His hands shoved their way into his pockets, his head hung low as he navigated through several bodies. 

“I think it’s something about the “rotters.” I don’t know what this means yet, but it’s... not good.” 

The way his eyes moved frantically, the clenched jaw and hidden hands. Adam knew something he wasn’t telling. 

Before Jisung could ask, his shoulder collided with another and the force knocked him clean off his feet. He felt the hard knock of the gym floor against his back and the looming figure above him.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry, are you okay?” The spots in his vision cleared and his eyes focused on the ceiling, before a boy’s face came into view. Ah fuck. 

This isn’t what he needed right now. 

“Bye Jisung. Be safe.” He heard Adam call to him and he scrambled to his feet way too fast for his almost-concussed state. He felt his legs turn to jelly and his feet stumble before careful hands steadied him. He called out to Adam, but he didn’t stop or even acknowledge the younger. 

“I really am so sorry, I should’ve been paying attention. Oh god, do you need me to drive you home?” 

Jisung reluctantly turned his head. 

Lee Minho was a well-known name around his school. He didn’t play sports, or date a lot of girls—make that any girls—but he was still considered high up on the social ladder. He was cute and charismatic and if Jisung had a small (very stupidly large) crush on the older boy, he didn’t dare entertain his thoughts.

Especially not when said boy had just knocked him almost unconscious.

“I’m fine.” 

Truly, he was feeling very light-headed but he had the sensibility to know that he did not want a ride home from Lee Minho. He wouldn’t say it, but he would rather walk. 

“It’s really no trouble, if you need a ride it is the least I could do. I feel so bad, are you sure you’re okay?” The little worry lines on Minho’s forehead and the comforting hand on his shoulder did not do good things for Jisung’s defensive “no thoughts” mechanism. He needed to exit stage left immediately. 

“I really am fine, but we should both probably leave before it gets worse.” He ducked under Minho’s hand, pushing past him with a sudden urgency. He didn’t know if the other responded, didn’t stick around to hear it. 

He drove home with only slightly blurry vision, the thought of Minho and Adam fading from his mind when he turned on the news.

Jisung didn’t like to think on the past. Causing himself unnecessary pain wasn’t exactly his favorite pasttime and reminiscing did nothing for him. Memories were collections of the past and they were to stay in the past. 

There was no point in wondering if Adam knew this would happen. No point in wondering if Minho survived. No point in wondering how many of all the faces he knew and was used to seeing made it through the first outbreak. 

Nothing mattered, not anymore.

Two years since a seventeen-year-old Jisung had begun looking for refuge in his community. Two years since he failed to find it and was only able to feel safe when alone. 

There was no point in staying in his town, so he loaded up on as much food and water as he could carry, stuffed a pillow and some blankets and clothes into a backpack alongside weapons and hit the road. His neighbors thought he was crazy, but his parents mangled and dead corpses decomposing on the lawn had turned what was once a home into a personal hell. Staying in town didn’t make him safe, the virus was already there.

He didn’t have an end goal. Even two years into his aimless wandering, there wasn’t an end goal. He kept a diary he found in an abandoned store and a pack of pens to keep track of the date and record his memories. It did nothing but bring him peace of mind, a rather expensive luxury these days.

It had been four months, three weeks and four days since he saw the last living person. It was an middle-aged man, hiding out in a store and looking beaten beyond recovery. He probably wouldn’t survive much longer.

Jisung didn’t know where he was exactly, probably somewhere north, though it didn’t really matter. Some nights he strung himself up in trees and tied his legs to a sturdy branch, some nights he slept in houses or stores or any other abandoned buildings he could find. Any people he met in passing, he ignored. No use in forming attachments when they might die tomorrow. 

He didn’t need another mouth to hunt for anyway.

If his dates were correct, it was a Wednesday, around midday judging by the increase in heat since the sun had risen. Wednesday was the day he searched for a water source, to fill up all his bottles and wash his clothes and blankets the best he could. It was also hunting day.

He still had some food from the night before tucked into his jacket, so he could save the hunting for a few more hours. There was a town up ahead if the road signs were still where they were supposed to be, which meant he could probably raid a few stores while there. He needed a new backpack and his shoes were falling apart. 

There was a river not too deep from the highway he followed, and he was able to clean up while the heat picked up. There were a few zombies hanging around, but he evaded them easily. No point in wasting energy fighting.

The town was small, only a gas station and a restaurant were right off the interstate exit. A few more signs told him there was an animal clinic near by, and a few small businesses. 

The gas station was pretty much empty, shelves wiped clean and doors broken, but he was able to find a few bottles of water in the back. He did face off with a zombie the minute he walked in, but an ace to the head solved his problem.

The restaurant was raided too, and there was hardly anything left to pick over. He moved on to the smaller businesses, finding a change of clothes and a new pair of tennis shoes that weren’t all that tight. He also pocketed some medicine from the pharmacy, mainly painkillers. Food was scarce, but he could make do.

Once he decided the town couldn’t offer him much more, he walked a little further down the road, cutting into the woods in hopes of finding a tree to sleep in for the night. He could still feel the cold press of the grocery store bathroom floor he’d slept on last night and it left him with an awful pain in his neck. 

The sun would set in a few hours. He needed to hunt. 

Jisung cleaned off his axe with his shirt, the dried blood putting up a fight against the material. Once it was decently clean, he hiked his bag higher on his back and stalked through the woods.

For several minutes, there was no luck. And then, the rustling of leaves. 

He hid behind a tree trunk, axe in hand as the animal got closer. It sounded big by the sound of its footsteps and it was fast. The animal seemed to be running.

He listened intently, waiting for the cue and when the footsteps got closer, he gripped his axe in his right hand. Slipping out from behind the tree, he expected to see a deer or maybe a bear of some kind. Instead, he felt the force of another body crashing into him before he could even swing his weapon and they both fell to the ground.

It took Jisung several moments of laying flat on his back to process the events. When he did, he propped up on his elbows, ready to send the other person a harsh glare and whatever mean words his brain presented him. His words died on his tongue when he saw the reason the person had been running.

A small horde of zombies was coming toward them, faster than usual. They’ve been recently bitten. His feet scrambled against the ground, unable to find his footing in the pile of leaves.

“Come on!” A hand wrapped around his wrist, the other supporting his back and pulling him to his feet, “Run!”

The voice was familiar, though Jisung didn’t have much time to think about such things. There was a horde of freshly turned zombies right on his trail, hungry for his flesh. The mystery person was right, they had to run.

He almost lost his footing once again when the person took off, their hand still securely fastened around his wrist. They dragged him behind, his feet struggling to catch up with how fast they were moving. The mystery person was a much faster runner than he was. 

They cleared the treelike on shaky feet, never once pausing to see how far back the horde was. The animal clinic from before came into view and Jisung read the mystery person’s mind as they made a beeline for it. 

The door bust open under their combined weight, and the mystery person pulled Jisung inside so they could slam it closed immediately after. Jisung was bent over, hands on his knees and head hung between them. The other person was breathing heavily as well.

“Well, that was fucking clo—“ The familiar voice stopped short, going completely still. 

Jisung raised his eyes, gaze flickering over worn boots and frayed jeans, past a black t-shirt and bomber jacket. Finally, he reached the mystery person’s face. He almost swore out loud.

In the middle of an animal clinic, in a town way too far away from where they grew up, Jisung had somehow managed to yet again collide with Lee Minho. He could feel his chest rising and falling, his tight lungs forcing him to continue breathing. If not for his body desperate need for oxygen at the moment, he would’ve stopped breathing entirely.

“I—“

“How the hell do you run so fast?” The words left Jisung’s tongue in more of a wheeze, his knees giving out completely now and plopping him on the floor. Minho blinked, his mouth open but no words coming out.

“Uh,” He shook his head, regained his composure, “lots of stamina, I guess.” 

Jisung couldn’t find it in himself to do more than nod. He ran a hand through his hair, exhaustion peaking at the corners of his eyes. He was so tired.

“I’m Jisung.” He extended a hand, because Minho didn’t know his name. He probably didn’t even recognize Jisung after two years and only speaking once prior. Besides, circumstances were a little different now.

Once again, Minho looked like a deer in headlights. He blinked rapidly for the second time, eyelashes fluttering across pretty cheekbones. He wasn’t frowning, his lips just had a downturn angle, Jisung realized. 

“I’m Minho.” He said and slowly pushed off the door to shake Jisung’s hand. So, Minho didn’t remember Jisung. Good thing he didn’t open the conversation with a weird reference to high school.

His hand was warm and smooth, a direct contrast to Jisung’s calloused and cold skin. In a lot of ways, Minho’s qualities mirrored Jisung’s, at least physically. 

Minho had sharp features, like his eyes and nose and jaw, while Jisung’s were more rounded. He was built differently overall with thicker thighs while Jisung had much bigger arm muscles. He was taller too, by a few inches. 

“We should make sure there aren’t any more around here.” Jisung said as he peeled himself from the floor, purposefully avoiding looking Minho directly in the eye. 

Minho cocked his head to the side, a clear frown etched onto his face amidst his confusion. It seemed to click within seconds and his entire face lit up in realization. It was cute. How dare he.

“Oh!” He exclaimed, eyes wide and sparkling under the sunlight coming in from cracked windows, “You mean the rotters.”

Jisung shot him an incredulous look. 

“Yeah,” He said slowly, “whatever it is that you call them.” 

He picked up his axe from the floor and tucked it close to his body. The animal clinic only had three examination rooms, but he wasn’t sure how many were in the back. It meant he would have to be careful when searching.

“What do you call them?” Minho followed him through exam room #1, his hand on the hilt of the dagger Jisung had just noticed. He didn’t exactly look like he knew how to use it.

“Zombies.” Jisung replied as he snaked into the second room. Minho was right on his heels the whole time, taking absolutely no initiative to search on his own. Strength in numbers, he guessed.

Minho snorted lightly from behind him, a look back at him had Jisung realizing he looked far too giddy for a kid in the apocalypse. Though, he wasn’t a kid anymore. Minho was probably around twenty now.

“Of course you would call them zombies.” He said with a laugh and Jisung really did try to find it in himself to be offended, “Come on, if our lives are going to be in the hands of these things, might as well give them a cooler name than zombies.”

“My life is not in their hands.” Jisung couldn’t keep the snap out of his voice. Those creatures didn’t rule whether he lived or died, that he was sure of. 

“Well, you’re not really at the advantage here.” Minho shrugged, either dismissing or failing to notice Jisung’s rudeness. His hands gripped his backpack straps, his lips upturned at the corners and making him look like a cat. 

“I have an axe.” He said, defensively, stopping in his steps to wave the weapon around. Minho glanced at it, subtly backing away when it waved a few inches from his nose. He grimaced.

“Yeah, but they have teeth.” 

“So do I.”

“Not the same kind.”

“Are you knocking my teeth because I will throw you out there and let the zombies have a feast with you.” Jisung was half-joking as he said it, keeping his axe close to him once again. Regardless, Minho broke into a big smile.

“No way, your teeth are cute.” 

“That’s weird to say.” Jisung gave him the side-eye, stepping around files thrown on the floor of one of the back rooms. He navigated them cautiously, even despite Minho’s constant talking.

“You asked.” Minho giggled, as he ran his hands over a poster on the wall. His smile faded a little bit as they continued and he saw the empty cages stacked in the corner.

“I did not.” Jisung replied, but froze when he saw Minho’s eyes lingering.

“Do you think they...” He trailed off, the smile completely gone from his face as he observed the open doors and untouched bedding. 

“This place was shut down, the owners had to come and get them.” Jisung said, picking up a file closest to the cages and holding it up. The dog had been discharged the day of the outbreak and taken home by its owner. Minho breathed a sigh of relief. 

“That’s good. That’s really good.” Minho’s smile was back and Jisung yelled at himself internally to stop being so happy to see it. 

After running through every room he could find and deeming it safe, he focused on securing the doors and windows and other entrances. Minho helped this time, moving tables and other barricades to cover any openings. 

The sun was setting when they finished and as night cast ink black over the clinic, Jisung laid out his blankets on the floor of the third exam room. Minho followed him in without saying anything, laying his own blanket at the other end of the room. Jisung raised an eyebrow when he lifted his gaze and met the other’s eye.

“What?” 

“There’s like four other rooms you could sleep in.” Jisung pressed his back to the door, sliding the pillow behind his head and the other blanket over his lower half. The clinic was cold, even without proper air conditioning. 

“It’s better if we sleep close by, in case anything happens.” Minho replied with a shrug, and he reached into his backpack to take a sip of water. He offered his bottle to Jisung who waved it off.

“You scared you’re gonna get eaten or something?” 

Minho was not appreciative of Jisung’s smug tone. He whined and kicked out his foot, a pout on his face. 

“I just think there’s safety in numbers.” He huffed and propped his backpack against the wall behind him. 

“Uh huh.” Jisung reached up, making sure the door was locked tight behind him, “Scaredy cat.”

Minho’s shoe flew at his head not even a moment after the words left his mouth. Jisung looked up in surprise, only to be met with the sight of Minho sticking his tongue out at him. His childish antics were not the least bit endearing. That’s what Jisung told himself anyway.

The light was switched off and after triple-checking the doors were locked and securing them in this room, the two of them finally got comfortable on the floor. Jisung preferred to sleep upright, because it kept him in a more ideal and alert position. Minho, on the other hand, seemed to have no problem in stretching out across the tiled floors.

He carried the same materials Jisung did, a pillow and blankets, though Jisung could also see some bits of torn fabric and clean bandages waded up inside the bag. He wondered what Minho could need those for, but chose not to say anything. 

A few minutes passed in which Jisung tried to convince himself to sleep. His body and mind both were on high alert, acutely aware of the other presence in the room. It made him uneasy and he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep until Minho did first. 

He told himself he was just being safe, that it was his survival instincts refusing. Jisung still felt stupid, because regardless of how much time had passed, he had known of Minho and the boy didn’t seem to have changed. He wasn’t dangerous, he was probably the most safe person to fall asleep around.

And yet still, Jisung was wide awake through the older boy’s shuffling and attempts to find comfort in his pile of blankets. The tile floor was cold and the blankets could only do so much to mask it. Jisung quietly watched him turn over and over until he gave up and lied on his back.

“Hey Jisung?” Minho’s voice was quiet, a frail whisper. It sounded too delicate for the world they lived in. 

Jisung hummed to let Minho know he was listening. 

“Do you ever wonder what happened to them? Friends and family?” Minho didn’t sound sad, he just sounded... tired. It took several seconds for Jisung to process the weight of the question, the uncomfortable thoughts it brought along with it.

“I didn’t have any friends.” He replied, looking up at the ceiling to avoid looking at Minho, “And I know exactly where my parents are.”

It was silent. He could feel Minho looking at him, trying to figure out if Jisung meant what he thought he did. Jisung stayed still.

“I’m sorry. Did you have to do it?”

Well, that was a loaded question. Jisung inhaled sharply, hoping to keep the graphic memories that were resurfacing from showing on his face.

“Yeah.” His voice was flat.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry? You didn’t turn them.”

Jisung glanced around Minho, only to see a frown on the other's face. He wasn’t looking at him, which Jisung was thankful for, because he couldn’t deal with that inevitable look of pity. It happened and he had to move on, because living in the past did nothing for a person.

“What about you?” Jisung redirected the conversation to his most casual abilities, “Do you have any idea what happened to them?”

Minho startled, shaking his thoughts from his head as he relaxed back into the blankets. His teeth worried his bottom lip.

“I came up here with my mom to find my dad,” He said and Jisung expected him to sound more upset than he did, “I’m not actually from around here, I’m from further south.”

Oh right. He and Jisung didn’t know each other. Jisung nodded, playing along easily despite having to remind himself of that fact. 

“My dad worked up here when the outbreak happened and we came to find him. We got separated...” Minho trailed off, mouth twisting downwards in another frown. 

Jisung couldn’t even imagine that. At least he knew where his parents were, what had happened to them. Minho didn’t know anything, whether they got turned and killed by someone else or whether they were still wandering aimlessly, human or not. Jisung preferred his situation.

“What about your friends?” Because Minho had a lot of them. 

“Ah,” The boy blinked rapidly, what was seeming to look like a habit, “I don’t really know what happened to some of them. Most of them either fled as soon as it happened or stayed locked up in their homes even after I left.”

Jisung hummed.

“Who do you think had a better chance?”

His question caught Minho off guard. He belatedly realized how insensitive it sounded, but it wasn’t what he meant by it. 

“What?” The older didn’t sound offended, just surprised.

“I mean, the runners or the isolators? Who do you think made the better decision for survival?” 

When Minho realized exactly what he was asking, he paused. His brows pinched together in thought, fingernails clicking as they picked at each other. 

“The runners.” He answered, still deep within his thoughts. He didn’t offer a reason why, not that Jisung needed one. Of course, he agreed with that statement. He was a runner and by the sounds of it, so was Minho.

“I don’t know what happened to anyone in my high school.” It was a half-lie, seeing as Minho was right in front of him and he most definitely knew he wasn’t dead, but he was the only one. Jisung didn’t know a single thing about the people he used to know, the people he used to see everyday who were now distant memories. 

He didn’t wonder about them a lot, anyway. Only two had managed to cross his mind on more than one or two occasions, and one of those two sat right before him. At least Minho had survived. Jisung assumed he’d never know what came of Adam.

“I’m sure some of them made it. Somebody other than you must have had the sense to run for it.” 

Jisung supposed Minho was right. They couldn’t have been the only ones who ran, though that didn’t mean they weren’t the only ones still living. It was a grim thought, but one Jisung had often in the beginning. He truly was alone, probably the only survivor from his hometown. And now, he knew he and Minho were the lone survivors. 

“Maybe. If they did make it, best of luck to them. There’s not a lot left to live for in this world.” 

“Yeah,” Minho quietly agreed, “not a lot.”

+++

Some time during the night, they had both dozed off. The cold tile didn’t feel as cold when their bodies had been pressing against it for several hours and blankets felt like clouds compared to it. Jisung woke up first, making sure Minho was still really sleeping and doing a check of all his items. Minho didn’t seem like a thief, at least not any that Jisung had met, but he never liked to rule out possibilities. 

He folded his blankets and shoved them back in his backpack, along with his pillow and anything other supplies he had removed the night before. Minho was string awake as he did so, turning over several times in his own mess of blankets.

“Good morning to us.” He said as he pulled himself off the floor, stretching his arms to the ceiling with a yawn. Jisung cast him a glance, still squishing his pillow down past the zipper. 

“Rise and shine.” Jisung deadpanned. He pulled a smushed granola bar from the bottom of the bag, a treat he had picked up at the last exit before this one. He broke it in half, passing the other to Minho who thanked him quickly before inhaling it.

“I can’t remember the last time I ate breakfast.” Minho said through a mouthful of granola. Jisung couldn’t help but snicker quietly to himself.

“It’ll give you energy, you need to outrun the zombies.” 

Minho hummed around the treat. They chewed in silence, mostly because Minho had his entire half in his mouth. He packed up his bag too and once he had eaten, went to open the door.

“Wait!” Jisung grabbed his wrist, pulling it gently back from the door handle. Minho looked at him, confused. 

Jisung pulled out a cracked mirror placing it next to the bottom of the door where light shown through. He was pretty sure no zombies could have gotten inside through the night, but he wanted to make sure he wasn’t walking into his death. 

“That’s seven years of bad luck.” Minho said, his head cocked to the side and finger pointing at the broken mirror like a child. Jisung scoffed.

“Yeah, well, I must have broken a hundred mirrors in my past lifetime.” The coast looked seemingly clear, so he reached up and slowly unlocked the door.

“You believe in past lifetimes? What do you think you were?” Jisung looked up at Minho incredulously, but the older boy continued anyway, “I think you were probably a squirrel or a quokka. You have the cheeks for it.”

Jisung just stared. Minho had that smile on his face again, the one that made him look like a cat. He seemed to think everything he was saying made total sense, like he wasn’t telling Jisung he thought he used to be a squirrel.

“Thank you? I think?” 

“You’re welcome!” 

He pocketed the mirror and straightened. The door eased open, hinges squeaking in protest as they moved out of the exam room. The hallways were empty, save for the scattered papers medicine bottles that covered every inch of the floor. He felt Minho’s presence at his back, his breath warm on his shoulder.

Jisung moved silently around the deserted scene, back to where they had barricaded the doors and windows the night before. The early morning sun cast through the cracks in their barrier, making lines of yellow on the floor. He kept his feet light as he advanced. If there were any zombies lurking, he didn’t want to alert them of his presence.

A patch of grass in the back was fenced in, more than likely an old play area for animals. The fence was albeit rusty and parts of it were leaning, but it had held sturdy enough to keep the zombies out. Jisung mentally marked it as an exit should the front door be swarmed.

Minho was on his heels as he trekked through the clinic. He didn’t say a word, occasionally moving files out of the way as he went and picking up fallen pictures. His face was blank, but the slight pinch in his brow was the telltale sign of his deep thoughts.

The front door didn’t look as promising. The parking lot they had entered through wasn’t swarmed the way Jisung had anticipated, but three zombies still loitered around. There was no point in risking it when the back door was safer. 

“We’ll go out the back.” Jisung voiced his thoughts, moving past Minho’s frame back to where they came from. Minho clutched the straps of his backpack tighter and followed wordlessly. 

They dismantled the barricade as slow and quiet as they could, any little noise would draw the zombies attention. It wasn’t yet warm out, the sun barely peaking over the horizon. There was a mist in the air, a characteristic of an early morning. 

“So,” Jisung spun around, already dreading the conversation to come, “I guess this is where we say goodbye.”

Minho flinched out of the corner of his eye, just barely. He shot the boy a look, one he didn’t see. Minho’s eyes were downcast, teeth chewing on his bottom lip and brows pinched together again. Jisung raised an eyebrow and when Minho looked up, it was like somebody shocked him.

“I-“ He cleared his throat, clasped his hands before before continuing, “I was hoping we could, maybe, travel... together. For a while longer.” 

Jisung stared. And stared. And then stared some more.

“What?” It was all he could think to say.

“I-I just think we could help each other out a little bit longer.” Minho stammered. He was bouncing on the balls of his feet, that damned cat smile back on his face. Jisung was beginning to think he did that on purpose.

“I don’t need another mouth to feed.” 

“You don’t have to! I can find food by myself.” 

Jisung sighed. He didn’t have rules when he went out on his own, he found it better to do without them. However, he was always very closed off to the idea of picking up any strays. Then again, Minho wasn’t exactly a stray, whether he knew it or not, they knew each other.

Maybe he could use the company. At least, for a little while. Then, they’d part ways.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

Minho actually smiled this time, his grin wide and full of life. He resembled a child in many ways, though maybe Jisung just attributed optimism to children. Because in many ways, Minho was a mature adult. 

“Come on, we need to get started if we want to make it to the next town any time soon.” 

Jisung propelled himself over the fence, watching Minho struggle to get his foot in between the holes as he followed. He made it eventually, even if he did practically fall over. 

Just for a little while, and then they’d part ways. 

+++

A little while seemed like a long fucking time.

Minho’s presence was new, a complete 180 from the usual quiet doting of his thoughts. He talked a lot and he wasn’t exactly quiet, though Jisung didn’t really mind that aspect of his personality too much. He would grow strangely quiet at times, brows pinched together or eyes blinking at irregular paces and Jisung would leave him to whatever thoughts had sprung themselves upon him in the moment.

He always recovered quickly, sometimes voicing those thoughts aloud in the form of an ill-placed question, but other times he shook them from his head and moved on entirely. Jisung found it alarming just how curious he was to know the content of the thoughts Minho didn’t share.

He never asked, neither about the sporadic silences or his excessive conversation in between them. In turn, Minho never asked about Jisung’s short replies or his awkward attempts at joking. 

Being around someone as lively and talkative and downright entertaining as Minho made the trek to the next town seem far shorter. Of course, they had encountered a few zombies along the way, but Jisung jumped at the opportunity to show off. And maybe his motives were a little ulterior, but nobody had to know that. Minho seemed impressed either way.

The sun was setting and Jisung tried to find any place he could feel safe to set up for the night. They walked through town for another hour before they found a place zombies couldn’t just wander into. It was an abandoned warehouse, the front door falling off its top hinge and the higher windows busted. The gates were marked with caution tape.

Minho followed him in, talking animatedly and hardly noticing their destination. Jisung belatedly realized they hadn’t had a chance to grab much food throughout the day and he still hadn’t gone hunting. He would have to break out the fish from two days ago and hope they didn’t get sick from it.

Minho stared at the wrapped piece of fish when Jisung had put it in front of him. They used boxes still packed with machinery to secure the doors and any busted windows on the lower level. It was colder than the animal clinic, not exactly as ideal, but it would do for the night. 

“I thought—“

“Just eat.” Jisung interrupted. He knew what Minho was going to say, didn’t have to hear his own contradiction straight from his mouth. Minho mulled it over for a second, before his hunger got the better of him and he ate the fish like it was the last thing he’d ever eat. And perhaps it could’ve been. 

They placed their backpacks back-to-back, each facing one of the entrances. Jisung kept his axe by his side, noticing Minho twirling a dagger he hadn’t noticed before. 

“So, where exactly are you headed?” Minho broke the silence and the chirping of the crickets with his question.

“Why do you always want to talk when we’re supposed to be sleeping?” Jisung wasn’t exactly avoiding the inquiry, more or less skirting around it. If you could even call it skirting around.

“Sorry if I can’t fall asleep easily in the middle of a dystopian society.” Minho giggled, none of his words holding any bite. Jisung didn’t think he had ever seen Minho be anything but happy and smiling. It was almost irritating.

“I’m not headed anywhere,” Jisung sighed, “there’s no where for me to go. I’m just going because there’s nothing else left to do, I guess.” 

For a second, he thought Minho had fallen asleep and was about to be relieved he saved himself that embarrassment.

“You don’t have anywhere to go, nor anyone to go to.” Minho’s observation was blunt, and stunt just a little, “So, tell me. Why do you fight so hard to survive when you seemingly have nothing to survive for?”

“That’s a loaded fucking question.” 

“Sorry,” Minho winced a little, “you don’t have to answer me, you know. I was just wondering what your motivation was.”

Jisung tapped the tips of his fingers together, the warehouse ceiling looking more and more bland the longer he stared at it. Why did he stay alive? 

“I think it’s just spite.” He answered, “Somebody has to be the last man standing, you know? And I don’t want to let these creatures be the thing that takes my life from me.”

“Your determination is admirable,” Minho snorted and Jisung breathed a sigh of relief at how casual he still sounded, “or maybe it’s stupid. I’m not really sure. But it’s better than what I got.”

“You had to have something that kept you alive for so long. No offense, but you don’t seem to be the fighter type.” 

“No offense taken.” Minho shifter against the floor, pulling his blanket up higher to his chin, “We really we’re looking for my dad, but after my mom and I got separated, I’ve fought to stay alive so I can return to her. I know it’s not probable that she made it, but I want to make it in case she did.”

Jisung was quiet for a long time. He wasn’t sure what to say to this boy. Minho’s mind just worked so differently than his and he found it difficult to find any sense of relation to his empathy. Jisung was never good at emotions.

“How long ago did you get separated?” 

“Two years.” 

Jisung almost sat straight up. Minho had survived a zombie apocalypse for two years to find his mother? He didn’t even know if she was still alive or still human and yet he fought through this hell to make it back to her? It was unusual to Jisung, how someone could be so passionate about something, even if it was his mom.

“That’s ... a while.” He couldn’t find it in himself to lie and say it was probable that Minho would find his mom in one piece. 

“Yeah. But I didn’t get my drive from thin air. My mom is more of a fighter than I am, so if I can make it, she definitely can.”

The way Minho spoke about his mom as if she were a superhero pulled on something in Jisung’s chest. He swallowed it down quickly, refusing to acknowledge whatever was threatening to come out. He needed to sleep and fast.

“When you find her, you’d better give me credit for keeping you alive.” 

He was met with the quiet and sincere laugh of Lee Minho. 

“Don’t worry, she’ll know.”

+++

“Good morning.”

“You look like shit.”

“Okay, never-mind. Hope your morning is trash.”

The quiet laughter was welcomed in the early morning. Jisung was almost surprised at how comfortable he seemed to be around Minho, despite his discomfort with people even before the outbreak. It wasn’t that he didn’t like people, he just found it difficult to connect with them, Adam had been the only exception back then.

And now there was Minho. Minho, who was always center of attention and the most fun person in the room. Minho, who was always smiling even in an apocalypse and made everyone like him. Jisung was no exception to that.

“Where to next?” Minho’s voice bounced off the hollow walls of the warehouse, a cold breeze blowing in from the broken windows above and forcing Jisung to repress a shiver. 

“We have to find food, it would be better if we tried to go now. I don’t like hunting in the dark.” 

“Aye aye, captain.” Minho zipped up his bag, and Jisung watched out of his peripheral vision as he closed the knife and slipped it in. 

They headed into the surrounding woods, Jisung’s axe pressed close to his body as they moved. Minho stayed at his back, his steps a little louder than Jisung’s.

The sun was already high in the sky, though they hadn’t been awake very long. He wasn’t sure what time they’d gone to sleep last night, but the slight ache in his head meant they’d slept longer than he intended. He reminded himself to record the date later. 

The sound of shuffling had him throwing an arm out across Minho’s chest. The older sent him a look as he stopped and waited. More shuffling. 

They pressed up against two trees, their back digging into the bark. A deer cautiously moved out in front of them, and Jisung curled his fingers around his axe.

“Wait,” Minho’s whisper was just quiet enough not to scare off the animal, and Jisung flicked him a glance of annoyance, “You meant hunt as in kill animals?”

Jisung shot him a look of disbelief. 

“What else did you think hunt meant?”

Minho fingers hooked around his backpack straps, feet shifting uncomfortably. Jisung waited for his answer, keeping an eye on the deer picking at grass a few feet away. Minho swallowed when he looked back at it.

“I don’t know, but I didn’t think you were going to slaughter animals.”

Once again, Jisung couldn’t believe his ears. What else did Minho think he was going to do? 

“Well, that’s what I’m going to do. Why? Do you have a problem with deer or something?”

“I have a problem with killing innocent animals for our own personal gain.” Minho hissed and Jisung could just blink. 

“You make it sound like I’m killing for sport, this is for our survival.” 

“And don’t you think we should take their survival into account.” 

Jisung raised his hands down his face with a sigh. The older boy continued looking at him, expectantly. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“I can’t believe we’re having this conversation right now.” He muttered and Minho seemed to agree with that much.

“Me neither. Where is your sense of humanity?”

“My humani— this is a deer!”

“I don’t eat meat.”

“What?” His jaw fell open. 

“Yeah. I’m a vegetarian.”

Silence. It took several attempts for Jisung to find the words he wanted to say, none of them too kind. All he could come up with was, “You ate fish last night!”

“Fish are exempt from the vegetarian rule, everybody knows that!”

The rise in their voices must have alerted the deer, because two seconds after the words left Minho’s mouth, it scurried away. Jisung couldn’t even be mad at that, not when he was still reeling from the information. 

“This is an apocalypse, there isn’t exactly a vegan food store open and running.” He pushed off the tree, choosing to lean against it instead. He tried to detect any ounce of humor in Minho’s expression. There wasn’t any.

“Canned food would do just fine.” Minho raised his brows defiantly and Jisung sighed.

“And where do you expect to find something like that?”

“We passed several grocery stores last night to get to the warehouse, I’m sure there’s some in the next town.”

“Are you seriously suggesting we survive on beans?”

“Not just beans, there’s other canned vegetables.”

He could honestly have banged his head into the tree right then. He didn’t, because his brain was still processing that Minho wanted them to survive on canned vegetables in the middle of an apocalypse. 

“I don’t know what’s more insane, the fact that you have the audacity to try and uphold a moral compass in an apocalypse or the fact that you’re actually convincing me right now.”

“I would say the latter.”

For the last time, Jisung sighed and he clipped his axe to the side of his backpack again. Wordlessly, he began to move back toward the warehouse and Minho happily followed with a hum.

“Fine. Come on, we don’t have all day, Scarecrow.” 

“We quite literally do have all day.”

“Not the point, Scarecrow.”

“Scarecrow?”

“You ever seen the Wizard of Oz?”

“Yes, the scarecrow didn’t have a—“

Jisung threw a glance over his shoulder, smirking as Minho opened and closed his mouth like a fist. His eyes narrowed and he removed his backpack to swat at Jisung’s legs. The younger dodged his attack easily, laughing as he did so.

“Don’t be fucking rude.” Minho was still swinging, but his tone was much lighter. He was laughing, lazily flinging the bag back and forth at Jisung’s shins.

“Move along, Scarecrow.”

“Okay, Tin Man.”

“Oh haha, real funny.”

“You ever seen the Wizard of Oz?”

+++

Even with the weight of the extra cans of vegetables in his bag, Jisung still couldn’t believe he had been talked out of hunting. Minho trotted along happily beside him, a beam of light among ruin. The shops they passed, once beautiful and bustling with people, were completely deserted and raided. There was nothing left of once beautiful places, nothing but pieces of what it once was.

Minho didn’t look at these places and see ruin. He saw fragments and he voiced as much to Jisung. He said something that could be turned into something new, rather than be fixed. Jisung had stared at him like he was a moron for saying as much, but it didn’t change Minho’s excited rambling. 

He truly believed the world had good left in it, truly be believed in rebuilding this society. Jisung had, of course, pointed out the one flaw in his plan. There could be no peace as long as the zombies remained. 

“Once the rotters are cured—“

“Cured?” Jisung stopped, eyes bulging out of his head. Minho kept walking for a few paces, only ceasing when he realized Jisung was no longer beside him. His brows were pinched together again as he surveyed him.

“Yeah. Anyway, once they’re cured—“

“You think the zombies can be cured?” Minho gripped the strap of his backpack a little harder at the harsher of Jisung’s question. He nodded slowly, refusing to meet the other’s eye.

“I don’t see why not.”

“Their brains are eating themselves, there isn’t going to a reverse effect for that.” Jisung tried to make his words a little softer, but Minho still swallowed when he heard them. 

“Actually, the whole brain-eating-itself thing was an off-the-wall assumption made by the government that was never approved or confirmed by the official science department.” Minho gulped, “Everything happened too quickly for us to know exactly what happens during the turning and after. Science started this whole thing, who’s to say science can’t end it?”

“Do you actually think these things have any sense of humanity left in them?” Jisung couldn’t get mad, he wasn’t getting mad. However, the thought of Minho seeing a human when he looked at these creatures was more than concerning. Is that why he always let Jisung do the killing?

“Look, I’m not saying they are for sure redeemable or that you’re a bad person for killing them when they are obviously here to kill us. All I’m saying is that I’m open to the idea of there being more. There has to be some way we overcome this, there has to be... something.” 

Minho met his eyes this time, pleading and nervous as they were. He looked desperate, like a child begging for their parent to believe them. Jisung realized then how young Minho really was, how young he really was. 

He was 18 the last time he checked and it hadn’t seemed young at all when his birthday rolled around. This world didn’t care how old you were, all it knew was death. And yet, Minho managed to hold on to something that tied him back to his age, his youth. His humanity. The same humanity that Jisung had lost when he watched his mother crumble to the floor with the bullet he shot in between her wild eyes.

“This is kind of fucked up, you know? That we’re even talking about this?” 

Minho snapped his head up, his wide smile returning to his face. 

“You seem to be in shock most of the time when I talk to you.” He replied, falling into step when Jisung began moving again. 

“Some of the shit that leaves your mouth is just baffling.” 

Minho hummed. “Glad to know I keep you on your toes.” 

+++

They made it to the next town by sunset, Jisung’s axe feeling heavy in his hands as they creeped through the woods. Minho thought it would be faster than following the highways and though he was wary, Jisung had agreed it could be quicker. They kept a close eye on the road, making sure never to stray too far.

The words were a hotspot for zombies and it made Jisung sort of uneasy knowing he had more than just himself to look after now. Minho wasn’t his responsibility, he had made that clear, but he also knew he hadn’t seen the kid try to fight off any zombies the entire time they traveled together. Minho didn’t seem the type anyway. 

They kept walking until it was almost too dark to see, and Jisung decided to call it a night. Minho watched silently as he climbed the bark of a nearby tree, hoisting himself over the thicker branches. Jisung took out a piece of rope he carried, looping it around the branch and his thighs and around the trunk of the tree and his middle.

He took Minho threw it verbally, and through some trial and error, he somehow made it to the branch opposite of Jisung. 

“You seem familiar with this. Do you sleep like this often?” Minho was tying a double knot in the rope around his middle. 

“Only when I can’t find somewhere safe to sleep.” 

Minho clipped the straps of his backpack together for extra measure, checking to make sure his knife was still in its pocket. 

“I still can’t believe we traveled two towns in a day. We’re so far north, way further than my mother and I were planning on going.” Minho was referencing the maps they’d found in the grocer they raided earlier. They were torn and a year old, but the little pin in all of them showed them their exact location. Minho was right, they were way further north than they thought.

“I still can’t believe you made me eat canned beans for dinner.” Jisung shot back, still remembering the taste on his tongue. It hadn’t been that bad, but he remembered why he didn’t do it often. 

“There were other vegetables, you just wanted to be stubborn.” Minho rolled his eyes, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. It was hard to make out his exact expression in the darkness, but Jisung could guess by the light weight of his tone. He hummed. 

“Maybe so. I’ve never heard of a vegetarian in a zombie apocalypse before, though.”

Minho smiled.

“Well, I’ll be the first.” 

Minho had already made history in Jisung’s books, but his weird antics just made his section even longer. What were the odds of surviving the apocalypse with your not-crush from high school? Slim to none, if you asked Jisung. 

“Yeah, you’re doing that a lot.” He murmured, not even aware that he said it out loud.

“Oh yeah? Like what?” Minho perked up, and even through the pitch black ink that surrounded them, Jisung could see the innocent smirk. He could see it and he hated it.

“That’s enough over-sharing for tonight.” Ease yourself way out of it, Jisung. 

“Ah, don’t leave me hanging like that. Come on, tell me.” 

Minho was persistent and Jisung knew he wouldn’t get any sleep any time soon if he didn’t give him some sort of an answer. Even if he had to sacrifice his pride and his ego, he would do that if it meant sleep.

“I never traveled with anyone. Since the outbreak, I’ve been alone. That’s why I’m bad at this whole...friends thing.” He tried to shrug it off, like it was no big deal. It wasn’t really a big deal, just because he chose to be alone for two years during a literal apocalypse. That wasn’t too weird, right?

“I figured.” At Jisung’s glare, Minho held his hands up in reassurance, “I don’t mean it in a bad way, you’re just independent. But if it’s any consolation, I think you’re doing a fine job at this whole “friends” thing.”

Jisung shot him a wary look, but decided to let it slide just this once. A thought occurred to him, the same one that did last night. 

“Why do we only talk at night?”

Minho looked up at the stars and shrugged, the pull and drop of his shoulders evident. Jisung almost cringed at how intently he was watching the older. Only because he couldn’t see, that was definitely the only reason.

“We talk plenty during the day too.”

“Not like this.”

“Mhm.” Minho hummed and Jisung assumed that meant he didn’t want to talk about it, so he was ready to move on and sleep before Minho replied, “I guess because once we stop moving and stop thinking about survival, we have time to process our thoughts.”

Jisung let the quiet settle over them, let the sound of the crickets chirping fill the air. He listened for any sign of zombies, any reminder that he was still here to survive, not to make friends. His reminder didn’t come. 

“Anybody ever tell you you’re kind of fake deep?” 

“Anybody ever tell you you’re kind of a fake asshole?”

“Many times.”

“As long as you know.”

It was easy to laugh with Minho, easy to joke and convince himself that things would be okay even for a moment. Under different circumstances, he would be fine (read: thrilled) to hang out with Minho, they probably would’ve gotten along well with or without the apocalypse. But in the end, the circumstances were as they were and the looming threat that people were temporary weighed on his shoulders. If only things were different.

“Goodnight, Scarecrow.”

“Night, Tin Man.”

+++

They traveled for two days through remote passages and deserted towns. They slept in a grocer one of those nights, but it was back to thicker tree branches by the next. They weren’t sure how much ground they had covered or where they were, but the amount of zombies they encountered had increased and the amount of stores and houses had lessened. 

Road signs didn’t help any, almost all of them had been blown down by storms or torn to shreds. The letters were illegible anyway, and there was nothing to tell them where they had ended up. They built a campfire at the edge of a clearing, with the hope that they could find shelter in the morning.

They sat around it now, two logs on either side of the flames and two empty cans of food nearby. The silence was usually welcomed, though neither could say it was right now. The lack of knowledge of their whereabouts brought an unease, one neither of them could soothe.

  
  


“This place is so empty.” Stating the obvious was a conversation opener, right? At least, in Jisung’s case it was. Even if it wasn’t a good one.

“I know.” A sigh ripped through Minho’s voice, barely above a whisper despite the static quiet surrounding them, “It’s such a small town compared to where I grew up.” 

Minho was right to some degree. Their hometown had been smaller compared to those surrounding it, but on a big picture scale, it was above average. Though now, it was probably just as deserted as every other town they’d been through, every other community that once was but is no longer. 

“Where you grew up is probably a small town now.” In regards to people, he’s sure it is. Minho hums. 

“Probably. What about you, though?” 

“What?”

“You don’t talk a lot about your life before this.” Minho’s gaze drifted over the orange blaze, landing on Jisung. There was a silent question behind those eyes, not one that Jisung could answer. Jisung wasn’t sure he liked that look.

“You don’t really either.” He replied, defensively, “All I know is that you’re from further south and you’re looking for your mom.” 

Minho laughed, definitely catching on to Jisung’s avoidance of the question. Still, he leaned back on his hands, letting the mix of moonlight and fire glow dance across his features. Dark brown eyes swallowing up the contrasting colors and making a sky of orange and a fire of blue blend. 

“Okay.” He said and made a point to smirk, “I had friends in high school, people seemed to like me alright. I was never sure why that was, but it didn’t bother me too much.

“I was an only child, my dad did a lot of work up here so he was gone most of the time. My mom was a nurse, so I learned some basic practices if you ever get hurt. No amputations though, I can’t stomach it.”

Jisung laughed, the sound bubbling out of his chest and reaching his throat before he could stifle it. Minho didn’t seem to mind by the grin on his face.

“Your laugh is pretty.” 

He looked up to see Minho watching him, with a sincere smile. How the older could wear his emotions so proudly on his face would remain a mystery to Jisung. 

“Thanks.” He cleared his throat, pushing down the blush rising to his cheeks, “What were your friends like?”

“Loud. And Irritating. I hung out with these guys I used to dance with, they were always getting me into shit.”

“Like what?”

Minho looked fond as he watched the sky. 

“Like okay, I had a thing for somebody back then, I would never tell them about it but they somehow found out and teased me relentlessly to go talk to that person. I could never make myself do it.” He laughed at the memory and for a moment, Jisung was shocked. Lee Minho, the it boy from their school, was scared to talk to someone? As if he had anything to worry about.

“Do you regret that now? Not making a move?” Jisung didn’t even try to stop his curiosity from seeping out. Minho’s brows pinched together again. 

“Kind of. None of us could’ve guessed what was going to happen.” He shrugged, “The one time I did speak to this person was not under the greatest circumstances.”

“Did you ever date anyone else?” He knew the answer. Perhaps he just wanted to know why.

“No. I was always too in my own head to notice if anyone liked me, no one really caught my attention besides this one person.”

Huh. So, the most attractive guy in school remained single because his interest was... elsewhere. Boy, would Jisung liked to have known that one back then. Not that it would’ve changed anything, because Jisung definitely did not have a crush on Minho at all. 

“Well, for your sake, wherever they’re at now, I hope they’re doing alright.”

Minho’s gaze met his for a moment, before flickering back down to the ground. He smiled, the most fond expression he’d made yet.

“Yeah. I have a feeling they are.” 

“They were one tough son of a bitch?”

“You could say that.” 

The conversation should’ve ended there, but Jisung’s clever avoidance wasn’t as clever as he thought. Minho remembered his original question and fully intended to receive an answer.

“What about you, what’s your life story?”

And really, what did Jisung have to lose?

“I grew up further south too. My older brother was away at college when everything started, I haven’t spoken to him in years. It was just me and my parents until it hit too close to home. Way too close.” He muttered the last part, taking a drink of his water before continuing. 

“I don’t think people in high school liked me very much, but it wasn’t entirely their fault. I was very hard to like. I only had one friend and he wasn’t even a student, he was a teacher’s assistant. In a lot of ways, he was cooler than any of the students anyway.”

“Was it just him? Did you have a crush on anybody?”

Jisung pondered Minho’s question for a minute. Was there anybody he had a crush on? Nobody he cared to admit. 

“Maybe.” He was wrong to think that answer wouldn’t encourage the other boy. 

“Ooh, that sounds promising.” 

The wiggle of Minho’s eyebrows was a mocking sight. He rolled his eyes, shooting Minho a glare that held no heat whatsoever. 

“It wasn’t really.” He tried to shrug it off, tried to pass over it, “Like you and your person, we didn’t speak. I always just thought we were too different, that nothing would come of it because of it.”

Minho seemed to understand that. He grew quiet for a moment and the crease in between those dark brows was back again. Jisung felt transported back to high school for a moment, watching Minho from across the classroom until he caught himself and forced his eyes back to his empty desk. 

“Was she at least nice?” 

“He was a saint.”

Minho’s eyes widened and Jisung very belatedly realized he had just confirmed his sexuality to practically a complete stranger. A complete stranger who he was surviving the zombie apocalypse with. It had never occurred to him that perhaps Minho could be—

“Oh.” His thoughts were disrupted by the man himself, his face now relaxed and looking not at all weirded out, “Well, I’m sure he’s doing okay.”

Jisung stared back, trying to detect any sense of disgust or mockery in Minho’s gaze. There was nothing but sincerity and a newfound gleam in his eye. He didn’t know what that was about

“Me too.” Minho whispered after a quiet moment and the gleam suddenly made perfect sense. What are the odds?

“This fire is taking forever to die.” Jisung wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so he simply didn’t. His eyes trained on the fire in front of them, willing Minho to drop the subject. He did so with a grin.

“We could just string up now and watch it.”

“And risk falling asleep and burning down the whole forest? Christ, Scarecrow, I know it’s the apocalypse but we still have to have some respect for Mother Nature.”

Banter came easily to them, as it seemed to always do. 

Perhaps the boy Jisung had definitely not had a crush on in high school was gone. That boy had stayed in their hometown, and the boy in front of him was someone else entirely. He liked the boy in front of him, maybe more than the old one. 

+++

Jisung was used to running from zombies. 

In the apocalypse, it was kind of an every other day occurrence. He was used to the running, the burn in his legs, the slamming of his feet across the ground. He was used to the pull in his chest, the pain in his lungs, he was used to it all.

He was used to outrunning a small horde of zombies. What he wasn’t used to? Outrunning what looked like hundreds. 

He wasn’t sure what had drawn them to the trees he and Minho were tied up in, nor did it matter when they awoke to the chorus of groans and hands reaching for them. One look at Minho told him he was beyond terrified and there was already anyway around this. But Jisung was a survivalist if nothing else.

“Hey, Scarecrow. Can you do something for me?”

Minho turned wide eyed to him, a visible gulp going down his throat. His fingers shook. 

“I’m not going to be your human sacrifice if that’s the question.” Despite the shaking in his voice, Minho grinned. It was weak, and obviously forced by Jisung appreciated the effort he was making to not be afraid. Or at least, pretend to not be.

“Climb to the edge of your branch.” 

Minho looked down at the zombies and slowly backed up at Jisung. He swallowed hard and clenched his hands into fists. 

“Don’t look at them. Look at me, eyes on me.” He stretched out his hand, balancing on his own branch with only one, “Do you trust me, Scarecrow?” 

Minho glanced at his hand, a shaky sigh leaving his lips. He squeezed his eyes shut, chest rising and falling rapidly. He nodded. 

With the untied ropes in his hand and his eyes focused on Jisung’s extended hand, he slowly began to crawl across the branch. It bent under weight, but showed no sign of snapping. Up close, it was easy to see just how badly he was shaking.

There was a small space of distance between the branches, just large enough to jump. Minho tried to keep his eyes off of it for as long as he could. His shaky hand enclosed Jisung’s and with a quick pull, he flew over the gap. 

The branch was hardly big enough for the both of them, but Jisung gripped Minho’s hand, the other one wrapped around his shoulders and keeping him close. It was purely to ensure his survival and the rapid beating of his heart was definitely just because of the zombies below them. Especially when Minho slowly raised his head and their faces were less than an inch from each other and—oh boy, if he didn’t have common sense he would’ve flown away from the other right now. 

“What now?” Minho whispered, his breath warm against the other’s face and still panicked. Right. There were still the zombies trying to eat them. Probably should be the main priority.

“We jump.” 

Minho barely had time to look at him like he was an idiot, before Jisung had pulled both of them to their feet. He used the rope tied around his waist to enclose both of theirs and the other end of it looped into a loose knot. He lined it up and threw the rope several times before it connected with a branch about ten feet away.

“You ready to Tarzan this?” Jisung tied the knots tighter on both ends, his heart beating fast and pumping adrenaline through his veins.

“Sure? Have you ever done this before?” 

It was Jisungs turn to look at Minho like he was an idiot.

“What? Of course not.” And with that, they leaned back and then fell forward.

The rope caught before halfway down and it pulled fatherly uncomfortably on their torsos. It would surely leave a burn, but a burn was better than a bite. Jisung reached out as soon as they swung up and wrapped his arm around the branch. Their combined weight made it a little more difficult to pull them both up, but he managed to get half their bodies up before Minho was within reaching distance to help.

The zombies moved slowly, but they caught on to what they had done, or more that the food had moved. With the open space beneath them, Jisung untied the ropes and jumped. His feet hit the ground, Minho in tow before they ran as fast as they could for it.

The clearing wasn’t exactly ideal, but it was a straight shot and Jisung found that the hardest task was keeping pace with Minho. They ran until their legs burned and their feet stung, and they didn’t stop running when the cleared the woods and came up upon a giant building.

The surrounding fences and gray structure made it very clear what they had stumbled upon, but they didn’t have time to stop and stare. The fences were surrounded by several hordes, probably thousands of zombies all grabbing at the sturdy metal. There were several wooden barricades built in front of places where the fences had collapsed, the work of someone from the inside. 

“Holy shit.” Minho breathed, and then felt a tug at his arm. 

“Come on.” Jisung was pulling him around, going to the side of the building before the zombies from before could catch up with them and the zombies in front could notice them. There were significantly less of them at the side entrance and the fences were still in tack. 

Jisung took it upon himself to slice through them, until they were at the edge of the fence. Minho glanced at the tops of them, the twisted and sharp wire not exactly appealing to him. Luckily, Jisung had other ideas. 

“Look.” Jisung pointed at the bottom of the fence, the ground dug up around it. A piece of cloth hung from one of the sharp edges along with a small trail of dried blood on the inside. Someone had come in this way.

Minho was about to say as much, but Jisung was already bent down, carefully holding the bottom up from the ground and gesturing for Minho to go first. With one last look thrown over his shoulder, Minho crouched down and carefully slid under the wire. He grabbed it from the other side and held it open for Jisung as well.

“We should probably fix that.” Jisung remarked once they were inside the prison grounds. Minho nodded as he observed the space they’d come to. It was stereotypical of a prison, with a courtyard and a patrol tower, though he assumed that was standard for every prison.

Jisung didn’t wait, he was immediately moving to one of the side doors and prying it open. Minho followed, albeit casually as they entered. Who knows if the person was still here and saw them as a threat. Sometimes, people could be scarier than the rotters.

Jisung didn’t seem to have much concern about that. His axe swung at his side, fingers wrapped tightly around it as they advanced further into the structure. The cells were empty, some looking untouched while others looked like a war zone. Jisung was strong, but could he hold his own against a prisoner?

They got their answer when they rounded the corner to the cafeteria answer and were immediately met with the cold kiss of steel to their temples. Both boys froze, Jisung’s knuckles turning white around the axe handle. Minho’s fingers itched to grab his knife.

“Who are you and how did you get in?” An emotionless voice asked them, the sound of a gun clicking next to Minho’s ear made him flinch.

“We’re travelers from down south. The fence outside had been dug up and broken underneath.” Jisung’s voice was equally as guarded as the man’s and it sent shivers down Minho’s spine. Maybe it was better to let him do all the talking.

“What do you want?” The voice was booming, bouncing off the bare walls in a growl. 

“We don’t want anything. We needed a place to escape the horde of zombies chasing us, that’s all.” Jisung rolled his eyes, and Minho could hear the exasperation in that action. 

“Are you bitten?”

“No. You can check us both.” 

“Any other travelers with you?”

“It’s just us.”

“If I take this gun away from your heads, are you going to swing that axe at me?”

“Haven’t decided yet.”

The voice chuckled and Minho saw the gun pull away from his skull. He breathed a sigh of relief, sending a glance to Jisung as he slowly turned around. 

A man with dark curly hair stood before them, the pistol in his hand still cocked and ready. It made Minho uneasy looking at it, but the boy at his side didn’t even flinch. It was amazing how good Jisung was at masking his emotions.

“No axe swinging?” The man asked, his voice holding a bit of a lighter tone now.

“My arm is tired.” Jisung replied, voice flat. He looked bored, considering how many times they had almost died in the last hour. The man cracked into a smile, his intimidating aura fading as he looked between them. 

“I’m going to take you up on that offer to check you both for notes, hope you don’t mind.” 

Both of them shrugged. They both stood completely still as the man checked almost every part of their bodies, looking around any areas that commonly his zombie bites. Once he was satisfied, he finally holstered his pistol.

“My name is Chan.” The dark-haired man extended his hand and Jisung eyed it for a second before slowly accepting it.

“I’m Jisung. Scarecrow over here is Minho.”

Chan’s gaze fell on him. He cocked his head to the side, studying the boy’s frame. 

“Interesting nickname you got there, Scarecrow.”

Minho scoffed.

“”Minho” is fine, he’s just an ass.” He jutted his chin in Jisung’s direction, who didn’t look the least bit guilty. Chan glanced between them again, his lip quirking at the corner as he observed them. Ultimately, whatever he was thinking was filed away for later.

“Sorry about the whole security check. You never know who could wander up in here.” Chan rubbed the back of his neck, looking very sheepish for a man who had just pointed a gun at them without question. Though, in hindsight it was probably justified.

“It’s fine, we get it.” Jisung waved him off with a dismissive hand, “You do have to feed us now, though. It’s kind of the rule.”

Chan laughed, loud and carefree, like he hadn’t been able to do so in a long time. He probably hadn’t by the looks of this place. 

“Is that so? Well, I don’t mind. Prison food isn’t the best but it’s something.” 

He turned away and within the first two steps, Minho saw the problem. He was favoring his right foot way too much, trying to mask a limp. His jeans were tore at the left ankle, dried blood matted onto the skin. He clapped a hand on Chan’s shoulder before he realized what he was doing.

“You’re injured.” It wasn’t a question. Chan cleared his throat, looking anywhere but Minho’s sharp gaze. 

“It’s just a scratch.” Chan tried to brush his hand off, but Minho’s grip was tighter than it looked.

“Sit down, I have to make sure you’re not bit.” Truthfully, he wasn’t really worried about it being a bite, a bite didn’t bleed this much. He was worried about the condition of Chan’s leg, considering how much blood was caked onto his skin.

Chan obliged, limping over to the nearest wall and sliding down it. He carefully rolled his jeans up to his kneecap and Minho heard a small gasp when he showed the wound. 

It was a thick and deep gash on the side of his leg, dried blood smeared all around it. It was definitely a couple weeks old and horribly infected by the way it was inflamed. Minho instantly removes his backpack, dropping down beside the man. 

“How did this happen?” He supposed he already knew.

“Was climbing under the fence when a horde of zombies started approaching. I got scared and tried to climb in really fast and it cut me deep.”

Minho got down close to examine the wound. He didn’t take any classes in school, but his mother had shared infinite amounts of knowledge with him. He wanted to be a veterinarian, he had some basic knowledge about things like this.

“It’s not deep enough to need stitches, but any deeper and this would’ve been a much more painful conversation.” He shit Chan a look, full of warning, “The bleeding seems to have stopped, which is good.”

He removed his supplies from his bag, silently proud of himself for bringing them. He hadn’t needed to use any of them yet, but he was glad he had brought them right now.

Cleaning the wound was more difficult than he would’ve liked. They didn’t have anything other than water really and the dried blood put up a fight coming off. He made sure to move slowly and carefully as not to hurt Chan more.

The ointment he had brought came in a large container and he was generous when he applied an amount around the cut. It looked about two weeks old now that Minho really saw it.

Finally, he dressed the wound, making the bandages snug but avoiding pulling on the cut too much. Jisung watched him as he worked, watched the way his hands moved and wrapped the bandage around Chan’s leg with steady and careful movements. 

“All good. Try not to put too much pressure on it, it’s already infected.” Minho fathered his supplies and put them back in his bag. He helped Chan stand up slowly and with his limp much more obvious now, he wobbled as he walked.

“Thank you.” Chan turned to Jisung next, “I’ll show you the food.” 

They walked across the floor, leaving Minho pack up the rest of his things as they headed for the kitchens. Chan didn’t try to make conversation as they did and Jisung wasn’t one to start one either. 

The kitchens were pretty bare, but no different from what Jisung expected. There were tons of canned and prepackaged food on the shelves, a variety of things Jisung hadn’t seen left behind in grocers. Chan breezed right past them and onto the freezer. 

“We have steaks in here, I’m not sure how long it’s been since you’ve ate anything.” Chan pried open the door to the walk-in icebox. The shelves in here were more stocked than the ones outside, like nothing had even touched the supply. He rummaged through them with determination on his face. 

“Actually, we don’t eat meat.”

Chan stopped at that, whipping his head around with his eyebrows raised. He stared at Jisung, probably trying to decide if he was joking or not. When he saw he wasn’t, he laughed anyway.

“What do you mean?”

He could tell the truth, that Minho was a vegetarian and still managed to keep his morals in the zombie apocalypse. However, he knew how it sounded, knew Minho probably wouldn’t like a random stranger making fun of him for it. And maybe it was a bit of protective streak that made no sense running through him but who cared. 

“I’m allergic.” Jisung lied, “I can’t have something that’s in most meats, so we just avoid them all together.”

Chan looked skeptical, his eyebrow raised and gaze boring into Jisung. The younger held his ground, not entirely sure why they were in a staring match. Chan didn’t press it.

“What do you eat then?”

“Mostly canned food.”

Chan snorted, moving out of the freezer and back into the main room. A chill ran down Jisung’s spine as the door closed and he returned to room temperature warmth. 

“We have plenty of that.” Chan shrugged, gesturing to the wall of canned meals. Jisung wasn’t sure what Minho preferred, so he just grabbed the first two cans he saw and followed Chan around the room.

“That kid out there is an angel. He avoids eating something just because you can’t have it?”

Well, not exactly. But sure.

“Uh yeah, something like that.”

“Most people I knew even back then wouldn’t do that. He’s really a good boyfriend.”

Jisung almost dropped the cans in his hand. Minho? His boyfriend? Chan thought Minho was his boyfriend? Oh no. 

“Minho’s not my—“ He went to protest, to correct Chan, but the door to the kitchen flew open. The man in question himself stood in the doorway, cat smile on his face.

“You guys need any help?” He asked, completely oblivious to the conversation happening before his arrival. Jisung glanced at Chan, who paid him no mind.

“If you want.” Chan shrugged. Minho carried some of the items in Chan’s arms with a happy grin, jumping immediately into conversation about the prison. His harm school charm was shining through and it would save their asses. Jisung forget all about Chan’s assumption. For now.

They spent several days in the surprising comfort of the prison. Between stone walls, it was easy to let themselves forget everything going on. Temporarily.

Chan’s leg was healing, thanks to Minho’s frequent care. He was able to get around a little better now, even if it sometimes still hurt. 

He had cleaned out one of the cells for them to stay in, only a few doors down from where he had cleaned out his own. They were in luxury compared to their usual accommodations. 

They had plenty of food, given that they were the only three there. Chan told them a few travelers like themselves had stayed with him, but only ever for a few weeks before they continued on. Most of the time, he hardly entertained them, letting them use one side of the prison as to not bother him.

“This place has been my home for about a year now, but the fences in the front are breaking down. I’m not quite sure where I’ll go when this place gets run over.” He pulled a face as he said it, like leaving his little sanctuary was the worst news he’d received in months.

They were sat in the middle of the makeshift cafeteria space, cans of fruit and vegetables in the center of them. It was probably about mid-day judging from the sun coming through the window. It was their fifth day here. 

“How much longer do you think the fences will hold?” Jisung passed the can of mixed fruit around the circle as he asked. He wasn’t sure when their sharing system had gone into place, but somehow it had become part of their routine. 

“Not very long.” Chan chewed a forkful of spam in thought, “You saw those wooden blockades? That’s where the fences collapsed before. I’m just trying to hold on to this place a little longer.”

“What about your family?” Minho piped up from beside them. He tended to stay quiet in casual conversation around Chan, brows pinched together as he let his thoughts race. Jisung never forced him to talk, though he did try to include him.

“They’re far away.” Chan mumbled, and took another bite of food, “I have no idea what could have happened to them. I don’t think I want to know.” 

Minho nodded. He kind of understood, the lack of knowledge or clarity regarding what happened to his parents weighing over him as well, but at least he had some idea as to where they were. It was better than nothing, he supposed.

“When the prison gets overrun, do you have any clue what you’re going to do? Anywhere or anyone you can think of to run to?” 

Chan considered his words for a moment. There was an obvious moment where he turned one of his thoughts over, until he made a decision about it. 

“There was rumor of refugee camps near the border. But that was a year and a half ago and I have no idea if they would even still be there.” 

Jisung snuck a glance at Minho, watching for the telltale signs of his thinking face. It didn’t come. Instead, Minho sat there, blank and unmoving and blinking a little too quickly. Like he was processing.

Jisung could guess what he was thinking, what he wouldn’t say out loud. If his mom was in one of those refugee camps, he had to look. He had to know.

“Do you know how far we are from the border?” Jisung kept his eyes on Minho even as he asked the question to Chan. Chan’s glance between them didn’t go unnoticed by either, but they chose not to acknowledge it.

“Not as far as it could be. Probably a month or two on foot. Maybe less if you spend half your day running from rotters.” 

So, maybe there was an end goal. Or at least, a temporary end goal. They couldn’t stay in the prison forever, but being on the run forever didn’t seem like a safe alternative either. A refugee camp was their best bet. 

“Look, my leg isn’t healed yet. Thanks to Minho, it doesn’t seem like I’m going to have to do without it any time soon. But I’m still not in the best shape to be doing any traveling.”

Jisung and Minho exchanged a look. 

“When I say the fences won’t hold long, I mean it. Just last week, this place almost got overrun, I’m barely comfortable sleeping with my cell door open. It would be wise of you two to stock up and move on as soon as you can.”

“How do you suggest we do that with the amount of zombies outside the fences? It would be almost impossible to get out of here unscathed.” 

“I have something I want to show you.” Chan began to stand, Minho at his side in a instant to help. He was still very cautious about letting Chan put pressure on his leg and he changed the bandages several times a day. Luckily, he was able to restock with the medical supplies they found in the prison infirmary. 

Jisung let them lead the way to the very back of the building, where a small woodshop and a garage was set up. There, two unmarked prison transport vans were parked, covered in dust. 

“The tanks are full, I’m guessing they were left here and forgotten about when the outbreak happened. You guys can take one. When this place gets overrun, I’ll use the other one.” Chan threw something in the air, the slight jingle and sun glinting off the object made it apparent. Jisung swiftly reached up and caught the key in his palm.

“You sure about this? Jisung turned the key over in his hand, the cold metal pressing against his skin. Chan nodded, taking a deep breath and letting a smile cross his face.

“I knew this place couldn’t last forever. I’m just glad it served as a temporary home for some time.” 

Chan clapped a hand to Jisung’s shoulder, his words genuine. Jisung almost felt bad about taking so much from this man, even despite how much Chan insisted he was offering it for a reason. He almost thought of taking Chan with them, but he had enough to worry about with keeping Minho safe. 

“Thank you.” He didn’t know what else to say besides thanks, didn’t know if he could say anything else. 

“You leave tomorrow morning.” 

+++

Dawn had barely broke when Jisung awoke to the creaking bed above his own groaning under weight. He barely adjusted his eyes before he saw Minho, climbing down from the small ladder leading up to his bed. He sent Jisung a sheepish smile.

“I didn’t mean to wake you up.” He whispered, his voice sounding extra soft considering the time of day, “I’m going to go check Chan’s leg.”

Jisung hummed and nodded, though it sounded more like a grunt. Minho giggled.

“How’s it looking?” 

“It’s better.” Minho shrugged, climbing the rest of the way down the ladder and sitting at the foot of Jisung’s bed, “He’s going to be okay. As long as he knows what he’s doing on all other accounts of survival.”

“Do you know what you’re doing on all other accounts of survival?” Jisung teases and fully anticipated the light slap on his knee.

“We don’t fight the same way, Tin Man, but you must keep me around for some reason.” Minho laughed, the tip of his index finger lightly poking Jisung’s leg. 

“It’s the visuals.” Jisung replied, his half-asleep and hazy mind not acting as much of a filter. Not that he really cared, surely Minho knew he was good-looking.

“Aww,” He could hear the smugness in Minho’s voice, “you think I’m pretty.”

Jisung swatted at his hands with a roll of his eyes. Minho didn’t stop though, he just kept poking and Jisung was moving way too slowly to catch him.

“I never said that,” He grunted, though the damage had already been done. He didn’t bother going to a great length to fix it now. 

Minho was giggling and seemed way too pleased with himself, which is probably why Jisung just let it slide. He threw back the blanket, sliding his feet around the older boy and onto the floor. In about an hour, they’d be on their own again.

“So,” Minho started when he had calmed down, “the refugee camp.”

“Yeah?” 

Minho bit his bottom lip.

“Are we... going?” 

Jisung snuck a glance at him out of the corner of his eye. His teeth were chewing at the skin on his lip and Jisung was slightly worried they would be horribly chapped by the end of the day. Really, he was already betting the camp was where they would end up. After all, there was no where else to go.

“If you want to.” He settled on and watched Minho’s expression light up. 

“Okay.”

Minho bounced out of the cell, and Jisung stayed behind to give him and Chan some breathing room. He hadn’t really gotten cozy in this room, but his blankets, pillow and rope were laying around. He’d definitely gotten more comfortable than usual.

Minho returned minutes later, his bag on his shoulders and looking fuller than it had when he left. Medical supplies, Jisung guessed. 

“Come on, Chan wants us to help him bring the kitchen to the vans.” Minho bounced on the balls of his feet, clearly too chipper for the cloudy morning. Jisung slid on his bag and followed him down to the kitchen.

They boxed up as much food as they could, lining the walls of the van with anything they could fit. They used the chains to tie it down and secure it. Jisung opted to keep the middle of the van open for a makeshift sleeping area. 

Minho was in the back, making sure the chains were tight enough when Chan pulled Jisung aside. Jisung cocked an eyebrow at him expectantly.

“You seem protective of him, so I don’t need to tell you this, but I will anyway.” Chan started and his hand slid down from Jisung’s arm, “It’s difficult finding someone you can trust, especially now. He trusts you and you seem to trust him.”

“What point are you trying to make?” Jisung was aware of how harsh his voice sounded, but he wasn’t a skirting around type person.

“Stay together. No matter what.” Chan said, his eyes floated behind Jisung to where Minho was still fighting with the chain, “I think there’s a lot more to him than what meets the eye.”

Jisung glanced back. Minho was struggling to stretch the chain over the boxes, at the last second, he reached up and moved one of the boxes to a tighter spot, but it got the chain to snap in place. He huffed, satisfied with himself. 

“Yeah. There’s definitely more to him.” 

With the vans stocked and the key in Jisung’s hand, they stood before Chan with thankful expressions. The oldest had waved them off, with a promise of meeting again sometime down the road. Jisung wasn’t sure how wishful he was allowed to think, so he didn’t comment on it. 

They parted with a hug and an “I’ll see you two later.” 

There was a path leading out of the woods on the side of the prison, the opposite side they had come in. A small group of zombies tried to catch their van, of course, but failed to even keep pace. 

The main road was completely empty, a stretch of clear asphalt as they drove. Jisung estimated they had about 6 hours of driving before the gas ran out, maybe a little more. 

They passed through the next town, not bothering to stop for anything. They mainly rode in silence until Minho got hungry. They ate on the side of the road, passing around a large can of mixed fruit and making small talk about the signs they’d passed. Minho liked to play guessing games and Jisung wasn’t really opposed to them. 

It was getting dark when Jisung pulled off the highway and drove right into an empty town. He pulled up at a gas station, turning the van off before Minho spoke.

“We have plenty of food and we aren’t out of gas yet, why are you stopping here?” 

“We still need water. Besides, didn’t you see the sign?” He cheekily pointed at the half-mounted sign by the entrance, “Cheapest gas in town.” 

Minho rolled his eyes, climbing out of the van with him. He left some of his ropes and blankets in the van to make room.

The gas station was pretty much empty, the shelves turned over and the floor littered with empty cans and bags of food. The coolers weren’t much better, but a few bottles were left. 

Minho wasn’t sure where it came from.

Once second, he was walking toward the cooler with his bag opened, and the next, he was being tackled into the shelves by a rotter. The first thing he could think to do was kick and thats just what he did. The rotter only flew away three steps but that was enough distance for Jisung. 

His axe buried itself into the side of the zombie’s head, making a sickening squelch sound as it connected. The zombie fell to the ground, it’s bloody flesh clumping around the end of the axe. Jisung crossed the room quickly, removing the weapon and turning to Minho.

“Are you okay?” 

Minho nodded weakly, pulling his eyes away from the corpse to look at Jisung. He could feel the beating of Minho’s heart through his wrist. Jisung didn’t even realize he had grabbed Minho’s wrist.

Something in the background fell over and Jisung’s body reacted quickly. Minho was behind him in an instant, his hand still firmly clasped around his wrist. He had his axe pulled back ready to strike.

Only the source of the noise wasn’t a zombie. Where he expected to see rotting teeth, flesh raw and decaying and two disgustingly human eyes staring back at him, he got quite the opposite. There was boy, no younger than he was, staring back at them. He had long black hair and hollow cheeks. He resembled a fox.

“Is this a bad time?” The kid cleared his throat awkwardly, “I can step out, you know.”

Jisung let his axe hang by his side, his heart in his throat. Behind him, Minho was sighing in relief. 

“You scared the shit out of me.” Jisung huffed, still panting, “I almost took your head off.”

“I know how to duck.” The kid replied. He reached forward, examining a twinkie on one of the turned over shelves and placed it in his pocket. Jisung could do nothing but stare at him.

“Did you know that thing was in here?” Minho jutted a finger at the corpse, avoiding looking at the rotter, but making it clear what he was discussing. The kid looked down at the body, before shrugging.

“Yeah.”

“And you didn’t think to warn us when we came in?” Jisung sounded exasperated, but not yet angry. Disbelief was probably the better word, though it was ill placed. 

“Better you than me.” The fox moved around the empty shelves, kicking away bags and empty containers. He walked right past the corpse as if it was nothing.

Jisung looked over his shoulder, meeting Minho’s curious glance. Crazy, Minho mouthed. Jisung couldn’t say he disagreed in the moment.

“Well, looks like it was none of us.” Jisung said. He stepped over the body to the coolers, pulling out a few bottles and throwing them in their bags. He heard the kid laugh.

“Yeah, thanks to you.” The kid turned to Minho, “What would you have done if he hadn’t been here? I wasn’t going to help you, you would’ve been on your own. Would you be alive right now?” 

Holy shit, this kid has lost his fucking mind. Jisung looked past Minho, at the kid sitting cross-legged on the checkout counter.

“I don’t look the fighter type because I’m not, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know how. But I suppose you’re right, I would’ve been in a predicament without him. I guess we’ll never know the answer to your question.”

The kid nodded, seemingly satisfied with his answer. He reached behind the counter, popping the drawer open and removing a stack of quarters left behind. Jisung eyed him curiously as he pocketed them.

“What are you going to do with those?” 

The kid shot him a wicked grin. He reached the bag he carried on his shoulder, and presented a rusty slingshot. 

“You two need gas or something?” Before they could even answer his question, he had hopped behind the counter, turning on one of the gas pumps. He also grabbed a lighter and stuck it alongside the quarters in his bag.

“Do you live here or something?” Minho asked, watching as the kid roamed the store with comfort. 

“Nah. I don’t live anywhere, I’m a wanderer.” 

“So you just wreak havoc everywhere you go?” Jisung got an elbow in the ribs for voicing his thought. He glared at Minho, who sent a warning look. Play nice, it said.

“Essentially.” The kid threw a glance over his shoulder, “Be glad I haven’t burned this place down yet.” 

He started to leave the store, but Minho called out to him before he could get far.

“What do you know about a refugee camp near the border?” 

The kid turned, his blank expression giving nothing away. He stared at Minho flatly, like he was debating telling him the truth or not. The kid clicked his tongue.

“Not much. There was one, not sure if there still is. Word doesn’t travel as fast when everybody’s infected or dead, you know.” The kid took the lighter from his backpack pocket, flicking it open and closed over and over.

“Is that where you’re headed?” Minho was cautiously watching the lighter as he spoke. The kid raised his eyebrows.

“I’m not headed anywhere. I told you, I’m a wanderer.” 

“What if you came with us?” Minho let the words escape his mouth before Jisung pulled at his bicep. He could feel the persistence, but he didn’t stop. “We could help each other for a bit.”

“What do you have that I could need?” The kid smirked watching Jisung’s not-so-subtle protests to his joining. 

“A van full of food.” Minho swatted at Jisung’s hands, which were now beginning to shake his arms. He glanced over his shoulder at him, unsurprised to see him shaking his head no.

“And what would you get out of it?”

“You seem to have an interesting skillset. I’m sure we could use it.” Minho barely got the words out of his mouth before he was yanked by the sleeve, turned fully to face Jisung. 

“A word?” Jisung pulled him to the corner of the store, his grip strong on Minho’s bicep, “Are you out of your mind?”

“I feel bad about leaving him out here by himself.” Minho peeked over his shoulder to make sure the kid wasn’t listening, “He could be of use to us.”

“He’s a borderline pyromaniac who just almost let you die for funsies. Not exactly someone I want as an ally.” Jisung threw his hands out to the side, his disapproval clear on his face. 

“He’s also no older than you. Come on, Tin Man, find your heart.” Minho pleaded. 

Jisung watched the boy for several seconds, watching him survey the empty shelves with disinterest. He slipped a pack of gum in his pocket when he thought neither of them were looking, his fingers still playing with the lighter. He sighed.

“Fine.” He brushed past Minho, not even sparing the kid a second glance as he headed for the door, determination in his every step, “You’re coming with us, Foxy.” 

The kid followed him out of the store without missing a beat, Minho at his heels. 

“Ooh, you guys use nicknames?” He shoved a piece of bubblegum in his mouth, smacking loudly. Jisung was not sure how much he could honestly take of this kid.

“Yeah, that’s Scarecrow—“

“Hi!”

“—and he calls me Tin Man.”

“Hmm. Cute. But I like my real name just fine.” The kid said, sending Jisung a blinding smile in response to his glare. Minho looked more than a little amused at that.

“We would call you your real name if we knew what it was.” He retorted, slinging his backpack in the van, unceremoniously. The fox grinned, climbing in after the bag and sitting right in the middle seat. 

“Jeongin. And you are?” 

“Jisung.” He slammed the door.

He fully expected Minho to tell him that wasn’t necessary, or to get on to him in general for being rude, but he didn’t. Instead, Minho just sent him a small smile and chuckled as he opened the passengers side door, moving their bags to the floorboard to climb in. His voice was muffled through the doors, but Jisung could guess he was introducing himself properly.

Jisung busied himself with filling up the gas tank, doing his best not to get any on himself, knowing that he was going to be sitting next to the pyromaniac for hours. One flick of that lighter and they suddenly had a much bigger problem on their hands. He capped the tank and moved around to the front of the van.

“We’ll drive for a little longer, but we should probably find somewhere to rest soon.” He said as he buckled his seatbelt, throwing a look at the other two. Minho nodded, and Jeongin made some grunt of approval that he assumed was a yes.

Minho tried to fill the quiet by talking to Jeongin, who gave disinterested and vague responses to all of his questions. He didn’t seem that interested in learning about Minho either, but he at least let the older talk. As long as the conversation didn’t shift to Jisung, he was okay.

Nightfall came sooner than they expected and Jisung pulled off onto a backroad to settle for the light. Jeongin’s lighter came in handy when they built the fire, much better than the friction Jisung had worked hard to create with two sticks a week ago. They sat around said fire now, a can of tuna being passed around.

“Do you guys not carry any meat?” Jeongin asked, scowling at the can before he took a bite. A grimace crossed his face.

“I’m allergic.” Jisung said before Minho could open his mouth. Minho looked shocked, but quickly recovered himself when Jeongin looked up. 

“So, he doesn’t eat meat because you’re allergic?” He pointed at Minho. Jisung just shrugged and nodded.

“I can’t tell if you’re stupid or just really nice.” 

Minho laughed awkwardly, his plastic spoon digging into the tuna to avoid answering. Jeongin didn’t seem to notice, or maybe he just didn’t care enough to question it. 

When the can was empty and the fire was dying, the three of them looked around their circle tiredly. Jisung was beginning to feel his eyes close get droopy. 

“I think it’s time we turn in for the night.” Minho said, maybe concealing a yawn as he got to his feet. He and Jeongin stomped the remaining fire out, the embers dying beneath the weight of their feet. 

Jisung opened the back of the van, moving the boxes around a little to make room for the three of them. Minho grabbed his bag, pulling out his own blankets and laying them out over the floor of the van. Jeongin peaked his head in and made a noise.

“As cozy as you’re making this little pallet look, I think I’ll just stretch out across the front seats for tonight.” Jeongin tapped the side of the van twice before retreating, and they could hear the front doors opening and closing. Jisung turned to Minho.

“That kid is just so… I can’t even put it into words! Ugh!” He moved the blankets around with a newfound purpose, to make their little pallet as cozy as possible just to spite the kid. Minho snickered from beside him. He glared.

“I’m not laughing at you, I promise.” Minho held his hands up defensively, giggling a little at Jisung’s distrust, “Okay, maybe I’m laughing at you, a  _ little _ . But it’s hard not to! You don’t even see the similarities in you two.” 

“Similarities?” Jisung scoffed, genuinely offended that Minho thought he was  _ that  _ aloof, “We have nothing in common. If I am ever that rude to you, you have full permission to slap the daylights out of me.” 

“You would’ve been slapped a ton by now.” Minho rolled his eyes, a playful smirk on his face, “You haven’t been rude to me, but you kind of go on defense around other people.” 

Jisung reached over and pulled the van door closed, encasing them in a pitch black darkness. It was kind of hard to see where the pallet was, but he managed to find the soft pile of blankets and lay down. He stared up at the inky ceiling, wrinkling his nose even if Minho didn’t see it. 

“There is a difference in me being guarded around other people and him admitting to standing around to see if you would die.” 

The blankets rustled next to him and he felt Minho’s warmth—his presence—lay down next to him. The van kept out a lot of the chill the night usually brought, but it still wasn’t completely warm. 

“Be honest. You weren’t exactly nice to other people either before I picked you up off the ground a few weeks ago.” Minho elbowed him, presumably aiming for the ribs, though his point of contact was just under them. 

“Are you suggesting that you somehow changed me or something?” He was glad he couldn’t see Minho’s face right now, for his own sake. Not because looking at it made him think mushy thoughts or anything like that. Definitely not that.

“You said it yourself. You didn’t interact with other people still alive before the animal clinic.” Minho was right in his words, though that didn’t make Jisung like them anymore. Sure, maybe he was correct, but Jisung still hated it.

“I said I had never traveled with anyone before, not that I hadn’t interacted with them.” It was a weak defense. 

“And did you?” The light tone of his voice meant he already knew the answer. There was no point in lying, not that Jisung wanted to lie to him. 

“No.” He admitted.

“See,” Minho snorted, lightly slapping at Jisung’s arm, “I did change you. Somehow, I don’t know either.”

They both laughed, moving around the pile of blankets and getting comfortable within them. It wasn’t a bad setup at all and Jisung for once felt fully safe. 

“Maybe the kid isn’t  _ that _ bad. He’s still annoying.” 

“You’ll warm up to him.” Minho laughed quietly, “I think you just see too much of yourself in him right now.”

Jisung didn’t acknowledge that. Instead, he rolled over, pulling his pillow further below his head and closed his eyes. 

If this were a rom-com, Jisung is sure he would’ve woken up the next morning trapped in Minho’s warmth with their legs tangled together and their arms wrapped around each other. This wasn’t a rom-com. At least, not one like Jisung had seen before. 

He didn’t wake up to warmth and tangled legs and cute music playing in the background, instead he got an arm to the face and the loud laugh of a teenage brat. Jisung woke up as soon as Minho had rolled over, as soon as his right arm flopped down right across Jisung’s nose. He groaned loudly, immediately reaching up to cover his face.

The van door was wide open, Jeongin standing over them with a giddy expression on his face. He observed their state with a big mischievous smile as Jisung sat up. Minho was awake now too, rubbing at his eyes and unaware of what he’d done in his sleep. 

“I think you just broke my nose.” Jisung mumbled, half afraid to remove his hand in case it came back stained with blood. Jeongin giggled and hopped out of the van, looking more lively than he had seemed the day before.

“He didn’t. Cute setup you got here though, definitely not big enough for three.” The wiggle of his eyebrows didn’t go unnoticed by Jisung, but he opted to ignore it. Let Jeongin think what he wanted to.

“We need to get on the road.”

+++

Three weeks had passed since they’d picked Jeongin up from the gas station. He was an excellent fighter like Jisung was and despite their differences, they worked well together in combat. They weren’t annoying each other as much anymore, in fact, they were getting close.

They still traveled in the van most days, finding most gas stations still had some gas in the pumps. The stops were more frequent, but at least they covered more ground. Minho was waiting anxiously each day as they got closer to the border. 

They had reached a rather deserted part of wherever they were, they hadn't seen any establishment or house in several miles. It was beginning to worry them, especially Jisung. The van was low on gas. 

They’d managed to push it a little further to a backroad in the woods, before the van fully ran out. That’s how they got to where they were now, with their backpacks packed up and van locked by the tree they’d marked.

“We’ll just travel on foot to see if there’s a gas station nearby. We can return to the van before nightfall and spend the night here.” Minho said as they began their trek into the woods. He wasn’t quite sure where they could stumble upon a gas station in this deserted neck of the woods, but he remembered the prison and the lack of establishments around it too. Maybe this would turn out to be a good thing for them.

His optimism proved to be right, because within two hours of walking, they stumbled into a gigantic clearing. On the far hill, a large house sat tucked away behind high fences. There was a barn and coop as well, both with equally high fences. Minho looked around at the expanse of land around them and it clicked.

“This is a ranch.” He said.

“Or was.” Jeongin said.

They began to trek up the hill, half hoping to find some other people and half hoping the ranch would be vacant. They were halfway up it without any sign of life, before Minho saw it. A red dot on his shoe. It didn’t take a genius to know what that was. 

He jumped back just before a gun fired and the bullet landed just a few feet in front of him, right where his foot had been. Jisung and Jeongin instinctively backed away as well, the former making a grab for Minho. The red dot appeared on Jeongin’s chest. 

The youngest hit the ground immediately, the older two following before the sniper could target them as well. Jeongin was moving his limbs around weirdly, and Jisung realized it was to keep the target from locking onto him. Jisung motioned for him and Minho to copy him.

“That’s enough!” A deep voice called out and the three of them ceased their movements. The red dot disappeared all together and they could hear the pounding of footsteps against the ground coming towards them. Jisung’s fingers closed around the handle of his axe. 

A boy appeared in front of them, around their age and out of breath. He rested his hands on his knees as he stared down at them and Jisung was silently waiting for him to make any indication of harming them. He didn’t. 

Instead, the boy caught his breath and held out his hand to Jeongin. The youngest of them glanced at it wearily but he slowly accepted the help. The boy pulled him to his feet, steadying him before doing the same to Minho. Finally, he turned to Jisung.

His outstretched hand was tempting, but Jisung was still hesitant. The boy gave him a kind smile, his freckles on his cheeks matching stars of the night sky. He didn’t look like he would have a scary bone in his body. Jisung let him help him to his feet.

“I am so sorry about that, my partner thought you were rotters.” The boy’s voice did not match his face whatsoever, though that wasn’t really Jisung’s biggest concern. The boy moved his dark bangs out of his eyes, stepping back and gesturing to the house.

“Welcome to the ranch.” 

+++

The ranch was a large house, four stories if the basement and attic were counted. The chicken coop and barn were both two stories as well, and looked handmade by the wood and the nail placement. There was a shed in the back lawn and a guest house just off to the side. 

The inhabitants of the house didn’t mirror its sophisticated decor in the slightest. Velvet drapes and a preston dining table clashed with the faded jean jacket and muddy tennis shoes the boy from earlier wore. He walked around the home like he knew it inside and out, like he had lived here his entire life. Jisung had trouble believing that.

“I really am so sorry about that,” The boy said as he led them through a living room made for movie sets and a dining room that could hold a small dinner party, “a lot of rotters turn up and wander around the ranch, he must not have been paying much attention.”

“No human has turned up before?” Jisung asked, his disbelief clear in his tone. Minho gave him a look, though it wasn’t a  _ “don’t be so rude”  _ look and more of a  _ “told you so”  _ look. He quirked an eyebrow at Jisung’s obvious eye roll. 

“Well, a few have.” The boy rubbed the back of his neck, looking rather sheepish as he did so, “Though they usually come around the back to try and sneak in.” 

Loud thumping from upstairs drew all of their attention, the sound getting closer and closer to the set of stairs leading up from the kitchen. The heavy thumping continued, the person in question practically jumping down them. 

Another boy appeared, an entire military sniper rifle hanging from his right shoulder. He was taller than anyone else in the room, a faded gray vest hugging his long torso, chestnut brown hair pulled into a low half ponytail. The beauty mark under his eye enhanced his handsome face. Jisung hated to admit it, god did he hate to admit it, but this guy was practically a model.

“Hello Hyunjin,” The deep voice guy greeted his partner, “why don’t you meet our guests.” 

The model—Hyunjin—let his gaze wander over each of them. His face didn’t move as he surveyed them from head-to-toe, only giving an uninterested hum when Minho smiled at him. He turned back to his partner.

“Are these the ones I almost shot?” He jabbed a finger at them, refocusing his weight to his right foot. His partner nodded.

“Hmm. They looked different from far away. Anyway, that’s my bad, I mistook you for rotters, but no harm done, right?” Hyunjin threw his sniper on the kitchen table, moving around them to a door located by where they’d entered. He opened it, shelves of snacks and other things surrounding him. He grabbed a box of jelly snacks.

“Hyunjin.” The mystery boy said his name with purpose, Hyunjin turning at the sound of it. The boy jutted his chin toward the kitchen window over the sink and stepped away from it. A zombie was roaming around just outside the fence, probably having spotted Jisung’s crew and followed. 

Hyunjin reaches under the sink, grabbing up a pistol tapped to the cabinet door. It had a silencer on it. He opened the window, aimed and shot once within three seconds. The zombie fell dead. 

Hyunjin returned the weapon, ripping open his bag of snacks and popping one in his mouth. His partner moved back to his previous spot in front of the window.

“So, I’m Hyunjin as you’ve all learned.” The boy pointed to himself with a grin, “That guy that ran out and recklessly saved your asses is Felix.”

Felix raised his hand, smiling cutely. 

“And you are?”

Jisung and Jeongin both turned their heads to Minho. The oldest seemed to understand that message, giving the two other boys an award-winning smile.

“I’m Minho. This is Jisung and Jeongin.” He pointed at them as he introduced them, “Do you two live alone here?” 

“Yes. Some travelers have stayed for a while, but they aren’t here anymore.” Felix leaned up against the counter, grinning at them. His smile puts Jisung at ease, oddly enough. He doesn’t seem like he would hurt them. Hyunjin was a different story.

“What he means to say,” The man in question cuts in, “is that they never last long.” 

“Hyunjin.” Felix sighed.

“What? If they’ve survived this long, they should know.” A hand ran down his face, “This world isn’t easy, sometimes the thought of other people scares me more than rotters. I’m just saying, we aren’t strangers to being the only survivors.”

“So you’ve traveled with a group before?” Jisung interrupted, his eyes fixated on Hyunjin. The brunet raised an eyebrow, his gaze moving past Jisung to Felix momentarily.

“We didn’t travel, we stayed here. There was a small group of us at one time, but we’ve only gotten smaller.” Hyunjin replied. He sounded tired, not in a sleepy way either. More like he was exhausted mentally. 

Felix clapped his hands together, the sound ricocheting off the walls. He grinned at their little group, but the look he sent Hyunjin was packed with way more. They seemed to be communicating without talking.

“How about we make you guys dinner and then we can talk about the specifics later.” Felix turned to them, pleased when they all nodded.

Dinner was made from the garden along the side of the house. Felix talked animatedly about it and Minho kept up with him easily. They were going back and forth about garden care and how it was possible to grow a garden in all of this.

They were surprised to find out the stove worked, as well as the oven and refrigerator. Felix was more than happy to explain their genius set-up.

“We use solar panels! It was Hyunjin’s idea. We also have a well and a water pump behind the guest house. Also Hyunjin’s idea.” Felix boasted as he mixed up some kind of pasta with the vegetables. Hyunjin sat at the kitchen table, taking absolutely none of the praise.

“You’re the reason we even have this place.” He said, throwing a glance over his shoulder at Felix, “The fences were your idea, so was raiding the military base.” 

He lifted his sniper for emphasis. Felix rolled his eyes, throwing a handful of carrots into the mix. Jisung could feel his eyebrows in his hairline.

“You guys raided a military base?” His gaze flickered between the two. They were both really fit, but neither one of them looked like they could take a military officer. Hyunjin shrugged.

“Yes, just for equipment though.” Felix shot Hyunjin an amused look, “Everything on the computers were encrypted, so we couldn’t find out any government secrets.”

“Like the fucking aliens.” Hyunjin grumbled and Felix giggled quietly.

“Some kid who stopped in asked Hyunjin about the aliens once, and he’s been pissed about it since.” 

“Yeah,” Hyunjin sighed, tapping his chest and looking up at the ceiling, “whatever you are, I hope you know the pain you’ve caused me.”

“Oh,” Jisung heard Minho exclaim next to him, “I’m sorry for your loss.”

Hyunjin looked at him, confused for a moment, before he barked a laugh. Minho glanced at Jisung, a look of pure bewilderment on his face, though Jisung couldn’t offer him any piece of mind. 

“Mark isn’t dead, he just took off a while back. I think he’s the only one that actually left and didn’t just drop dead in front of our eyes.” Hyunjin leaned forward, grabbing his water off the table and sipping it, “He said he was headed toward the refugee camp by the border, but that was a few months ago. Who knows where he is now.”

Minho perked up instantly at the mention of the camp. 

“So there is a camp?” His voice was hopeful, eyes wide. For Minho’s sake, Jisung found himself hoping this camp actually did exist.

“The refugee camp? Yeah, it exists. Last I heard, it’s still going, don’t know how many people have showed up though.” Hyunjin either didn’t notice the gleam or Minho’s eyes, or he didn’t care to acknowledge it. Felix did though and he grinned at seeing the joy cover Minho’s face.

“My mom could be there.” Minho whispered in Jisung’s ear, his hands clutching and shaking Jisung’s arm. The younger tried to hold back his smile, the one that always seemed to fight him when Minho pulled at him like that.

“Even if she isn’t, we’ll find her.” He reassured and Minho smiled back so sincerely, Jisung could feel his heart rate hitting an all time high. This room was weirdly hot, right?

Felix called them to the dining room to eat, sitting the large pan of pasta in the middle of the table. They crowded around, each with individual plates and actual  _ real _ utensils. Felix sat at the head of the table, Hyunjin by his side and Jisung on the other. Jeongin immediately sat by Hyunjin, even though he kept eyeing him strangely from the corner of his vision. Minho sat by Jisung.

Conversation went easy among them. Felix and Minho led most of the conversation, and Jisung was glad to see his quiet nature did not extend to everyone. He tried not to, but he couldn’t help how his gaze always floated back to the boy beside him.  _ It’s just because he’s talking. It’s a natural response to look at whoever is talking  _ he told himself. 

Minho, sitting at the dinner table over a plate of pasta and talking passionately about old video games, reminded him a lot of what he used to be like. Two years ago, he would’ve never imagined himself fitting in in Minho’s world. And yet, here he sat, at the same table. 

They all offered to help Felix clean up, but the freckled boy insisted he do it alone. Hyunjin retired from the social circle to go set up his post again. 

“We have extra bedrooms, if you guys want to split up to sleep, or there's multiple beds in one room.” Felix’s offer reminded Jisung of why they’d come here in the first place.

“Oh shit.” He said out loud and when three pairs of eyes turned to look at him, “I totally forgot about the van.”

Minho and Jeongin groaned, both having let it slip their minds as well. 

“We have a prison van full of food from the last place we stayed. We ran out of gas earlier this morning.” Jisung explained when he saw Felix staring at him blankly. The boy brightened upon hearing that.

“Oh! We have gas, we can go get the van in the morning!” Felix was bouncing on his heels. Jisung boiled it down to him being excited about the food. 

“Thanks, I’ll go with you and show you where we left it.” 

Felix clapped his hands together and went back to washing the dishes. The sun was set now, the dark waves of the night having consumed the ranch and all that around it. Minho excused himself upstairs to look around, while Jisung and Jeongin stayed downstairs in the kitchen. 

“How did you come across this place anyway?” He asked, taking a seat at the kitchen table. The middle of it was decorated with pretty pink flowers, fake ones of course. Still, it gave the illusion of a house with no idea of the outside world. Much like houses used to look.

“It belonged to my grandma. This whole ranch did. I was on foreign exchange here when everything went down, this is where I was living.” He ran water over the dish, careful watching it run off and down the sink. He smiled.

“And Hyunjin?”

“I knew him from school. I didn’t have many friends because I wasn’t good at the language back then, but Hyunjin and his friend helped me a lot. Changbin… well, I don’t actually know what happened to him. Hyunjin and I locked ourselves up here for weeks after his parents turned.”

Jisung nodded, doing a quick look around the place. If his house had been anything like this, he probably would’ve forced himself to stay. It was secluded, tucked far enough back from society and it was big. Still, it was only one house.

“How do you guys survive here? I mean, I know you have the garden and the fences and the solar panels but how is that enough?” 

“The guest house is stocked with supplies. We used to go on weekly runs to the town, but our car broke down a little while ago and we aren’t sure how to fix it. That’s partially why I was so excited to hear you had a van.” 

Felix cleaned the sink out, turning around and facing Jisung. They heard a small thump and Felix glanced over his shoulder to see another zombie fall to the ground, the red laser beam that took its life turning off. Felix shook his head.

“Don’t be too offended if Hyunjin says something kind of rude. He doesn’t realize it most of the time, but he can be protective over this house and I. It was the first place he ran to for a reason when everything happened.” Felix waited for the laser beam to return, and when it did, he grinned. He knew him well.

“The first person he ran to as well.” Jisung mumbled, watching Felix turn to him curiously, “There's a reason he chose here, chose you. I’ve been told I’m protective over my own idiot, so I get it. There’s a reason I keep him around.” 

  
  


“And why is that?” Felix smirked and Jisung did not like the glint in his eye. The glint that was strangely knowing for someone without any knowledge.

“Probably the same reason Hyunjin keeps you around.” 

Felix shot him a playful glare, one Jisung considered a personal victory. He excused himself from the table, climbing up the stairs in search of his idiot in question. 

The upstairs was less confusing than the lower level, but it still had confusing twists and turns here and there. He wandered around the corner, hearing a familiar light laughter coming from a room at the end of a long hallway. 

The door was open at the very end of the hall, Hyunjin was camped by the window, his sniper resting on the sill. Minho sat beside him, his feet folded beneath him and elbows on the sill next to where the sniper pointed out. Hyunjin was sitting close, his hands on the gun.

“I wouldn’t say I’m skilled at it or anything, I just like it.” Hyunjin was saying, pointing down at the ground below them, “Try to aim it.” 

Minho immediately protested, putting his hands in the air next to his head. Hyunjin laughed and moved the sniper toward him anyway.

“Just remember what I showed you, you’ll be fine.” Hyunjin moved back, allowing Minho to carefully shift in front of the gun. He held it kind of awkwardly, looking at Hyunjin for guidance. The taller boy reached over, fixing his hands and pushing lightly on his back.

“Lean closer to the scope.” 

Minho did as much, holding in place for a few seconds as he lined up his shot. He took a deep breath in, his shoulder shaking slightly when he exhaled. Then, he pulled the trigger.

The shot wasn’t loud, but Jisung still heard it. Then, Hyunjin had his hands back on Minho, shaking him by the shoulders and telling him what a great job he did. And for some reason, the sight just really,  _ really  _ pissed Jisung off.

His slow clap was more than a little sarcastic, not that either of the two on the floor noticed. Minho turned around, surprised to see him, but his surprise quickly melted away into a bright smile. Hyunjin observed him with a less friendly expression.

“Hey Tin Man! Look what Hyunjin showed me.” He held up the sniper about an inch from where it rested, but still didn’t fully take it into his hands. His caution was cute, but the proud smile he wore was cuter. Wait, what.

“Nice shot, Scarecrow. You’re a natural.” Jisung stole a glance at Hyunjin, whose smirk was a little too cocky for Jisung’s liking. He was watching Jisung back, the little smirk only growing bigger when they met eyes.

“You two have nicknames for each other?” Hyunjin asked. Minho chuckled a little, removing his hands from the rifle all together. Jisung didn’t make any move to respond.

“Yeah. I don’t really remember why.” Minho shrugged, but his smile remained as if he was thinking of a fond memory. Jisung felt the corner of his lip pull as well.

“That’s cute. You two must’ve been best friends or something before this started.” Despite his expression, Hyunjin’s words at least sounded sincere. There was something odd about him, though Jisung reduced that to his own paranoia.

“Actually, we just met a few months ago. Sounds crazy to think about it now. Right, Tin Man?” Minho turned to look at Jisung in the doorway, his smile sending a jolt through Jisung’s body. What the fuck? Jisung blinked. Several times. 

“Yeah, don’t know how I ever survived without you talking in my ear all the time.” He retorted and Minho rolled his eyes with a chuckle.

“This,” He jabbed a finger in Jisung’s direction, “is why I call him Tin Man.”

“Yeah, I think you’re right.” Hyunjin agreed, relaxing on one of his hands and Jisung narrowed his eyes at the smirking boy, “You need to find your heart, little tin man.” 

+++

The next morning, Jisung woke up earlier than needed to go find Felix. He stepped over Minho, who had insisted on sleeping on the floor the night before. Minho thought it was a better idea for the three of them to stay together, but Jeongin had opted for his own space the minute it had been offered. Jisung didn’t mind if Minho slept until the same room, and Minho didn’t ask. 

He pulled on his jacket and his backpack, making sure there was still enough water for a two hour walk back to the van. He was careful not to wake up the sleeping boy, figuring Minho could use the extra rest. 

Downstairs, Felix was in the kitchen, flipping eggs over in a frying pan. He grinned seeing Jisung descend from the steps. 

“Good morning! I know you guys mentioned you don’t eat meat, I hope eggs are alright.” Felix moved the pan over a plate, shoveling the eggs on it with a spatula. Jisung almost couldn’t believe how normal this looked. Eggs in the morning instead of canned fruit? He hadn’t ever imagined that again. 

“Eggs are fine with me, I think they’ll be okay with him too.” Jisung didn’t mention that he would be totally okay with eating extra eggs if Minho didn’t want his. Felix seemed satisfied with that, moving around the kitchen to look for something else.

“We’ll go for the van as soon as everybody has breakfast.” Felix said, “Can you do me a favor? Can you go get Hyunjin? He’s outside.” 

Did Jisung want to? No. He didn’t particularly think he and Hyunjin were going to get along all that well. But Felix was the saint who was making them breakfast and was allowing them to stay in his house and who kept Hyunjin from killing them. So, he just said “sure” and headed outside.

The sun was bright and high for the time of morning, and Jisung found himself instantly squinting. There were several bodies laying around the fences surrounding the house, more than there had been last night. Hyunjin seemed to have gotten to them.

Jisung walked around the house, finding Hyunjin in the back lawn with a pile of throwing knives beside him. Probably souvenirs from the military base. He was launching them at a target painted on a tree, never quite hitting bullseye.

“You should throw harder.”

“You should aim better.”

Hyunjin’s quick retort threw Jisung off guard slightly. So, Hyunjin knew he was there. Interesting.

“How do you know I don’t have good aim?” Jisung leaned up against the side of the house, watching Hyunjin continue to throw with a lax arm. The boy scoffed, throwing another knife at the tree and missing his target yet again.

“I can tell by looking at you. You’re good in close combat, but you suck long range.” Hyunjin didn’t even glance at him as he said it, another knife flying at the tree.

“Don’t you only need one though?” Jisung responded. Hyunjin did cast a glance over his shoulder this time, another scoff falling from his lips.

“Do you want to be good or do you want to be great?” Another knife, another miss.

“I want to be alive and if “good” keeps me alive, then I’m personally fine with just being good.” Jisung couldn’t take it anymore. He walked over to Hyunjin, grabbing his bicep and his fist that held the knife.

“Throw harder, put more power behind your upper arm and grip the base tighter. You’re a sniper, I don’t need to tell you how to aim, but knives and guns don’t work the same. Control the blade.” 

He let go of Hyunjin, letting the boy glare at him momentarily. Hyunjin drew his arm back, following Jisung’s directions and got a little closer to the bullseye when his knife sunk in. 

“Better. Don’t throw too soon or you’ll end up above the target and don’t throw too late or you might hit your own foot.” He watched as Hyunjin did the move again, releasing the knife at just the right time. It sank in the circle on the tree and Jisung internally cheered.

Hyunjin turned back to look at Jisung and the younger of the two just nodded in approval. 

“Felix made breakfast.” He said and turned away. He was only halfway back to the house when Hyunjin caught up to him, knife bag in hand. 

“Didn’t mean to piss you off yesterday.” Hyunjin said as they walked, though the smirk on his face said otherwise. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Ah, you know,” Hyunjin nudged him in the side, “I didn’t mean to steal your boy away or anything.” 

Jisung almost let his feet stop. He gathered himself quickly, passing it off as tripping over a stump, not that Hyunjin noticed. He spent several years mastering the art of not letting his thoughts run wild with silly possibilities like that, and he would not let Hyunjin be the one to break his cycle.

“Minho can hang out with whoever he wants. It’s not like I control him.” Jisung replied, climbing the steps to the front door in hopes of escaping the conversation. Hyunjin was quicker though and he wedged himself between the door and Jisung.

“I am curious though,” He leaned forward, hands on the railings, “what do you consider your relationship to be?” 

Jisung stared back at him, unfazed. He couldn’t really think of a good word to describe him and Minho. How could he say he had left behind multiple places and people in favor of continuing to travel with Minho? That sounded way too close to those wild thoughts.

“We’re… friends.” He settled on. That was good. Friends was safe.

“Friends don’t do that stupid bullshit you two do.” Hyunjin said, rocking back and forth on his heels. Jisung shot him a look.

“What bullshit are you talking about?” 

“Oh you know,” Hyunjin smirked, turning toward the door finally, “The exclusive nicknames, the insistence to sleep in the same room, the starry eyes.”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“And you’re in denial.”

Hyunjin flung open the door, not waiting for a reply from Jisung. The younger grumbled, following him in and seeing Jeongin and Minho both awake now. Guess that conversation would have to wait.

+++

Overall, it took a little under three hours to make it to the van and back. Felix had only brought enough gas to drive it back to the ranch, where they could fill it up all the way. The amount of food they had was exciting to him and he was psyched about the amount of room in the back. 

There were no more bodies around the fences when they drove back up and Jisung briefly wondered what happened to all of them. Felix wrinkled his nose, no doubt seeing the same emptiness Jisung did.

“Hyunjin sometimes takes care of the bodies. He says they’d pile up otherwise.” Felix grimaced at the thought. Jisung hummed, driving in through where the gate was being held open by the man in question.

“What does he do with them?” Jisung pulled the van around to the back of the barn, where Felix had instructed him to do so.

“Sometimes he burns them, other times he just moves them to the woods. I tend not to dwell on it.” 

They both climbed out of the van, and Felix disappeared inside the barn to get the gas. There was a truck not far from where he stood, probably the broken down one Felix had mentioned. He wandered over to it, trying to see any damage inflicted on the truck. Other than a few scrapes and scratches, there was nothing that could warrant a breakdown.

He didn’t really mean to pry, though he was sure Felix wouldn’t mind. By the time Felix had returned with the gas cans, Jisung already had the hood up, and was staring inside at the mechanisms.

“You know how to fix it?” Felix called to him, setting the cans down next to the van and walking over to where Jisung stood. He examined the parts finding nothing out of place.

“I might have to look at it to figure out what is really wrong. My dad taught me how to fix cars when I was young and even though I wasn't the best at it, I know a few things.” He closed the hood, turning to face Felix.

“If you can get that thing started again, we will literally feed you anything we can find.” Felix laughed and he led them back to the van. It was a bit of a slow process, between running the cans back and forth to the barn and having to carefully fill up the tank to avoid spillage. They got it done quickly with the both of them working together.

“Today is usually the day we would run to town, if you don’t mind.” Felix was stacking the gas cans in the corner, throwing a glance behind him at Jisung.

“You’ve already done a lot for us, Minho and I can run into town and get whatever you guys need.” 

Felix smiled. 

“Okay. There’s a little pop-up market in the middle of town, just a ways down from the hotel. We can give you guys some money.” 

With the van full of gas and money in hand, Minho climbed in the front seat of the van just an hour later. Minho had agreed to come immediately, leaving Hyunjin to hold his position in their card game. He had, of course, sent Jisung a look when he heard they would be traveling together.

The drive to town was only about fifteen miles and it was pretty small. They checked grocers and gas stations first, like they usually did when they traveled alone. Minho stocked the back of the van with as many granola bars as he could come across. They found the hotel next and they decided to try and loot it before continuing on.

The place was mostly deserted, as was everything else these days. Most of the rooms were empty, some bloody and some with boards covering the entrances and groaning coming from within. Somebody had trapped the zombies. 

They continued up a few floors, searching every room that wasn't sectioned off. They were just about to give up on looking through the hotel, when Jisung heard a slight click and felt something press against the bottom of his foot. Before he could react, a net fell from the ceiling, trapping him. 

A door at the very end of the hall flung open and two boys came rushing down the velvet hallways with a crowbar in one of their hands. Jisung watched one of them swing for his head, and he moved out of the way just in time.

“What the fuck!” 

The boy stopped with his weapon still raised. He stared at Jisung and then seemed to connect the dots.

“Oh fuck, you’re not a rotter.” He said. Jisung just stared back at him, blankly.

“Yeah, no shit!”

The other boy standing next to him bent down to help untangled Jisung from the net, Minho on the other side trying to pull the weights off. When he was finally free, he felt Minho pull him to his feet. 

“Shit, you alright?” The second boy asked, the one not holding the crowbar. 

“What the hell is the point of that?” Jisung avoided their question, dusting off his clothes and glaring at the two. Crowbar looked down at the net and then back up. 

“It’s for catching rotters. And apparently, teenage boys.”

Goggles, the accomplice to Crowbar, smacked his friend’s arm. 

“We are so sorry about that,” Goggles said, “we build traps around here for the rotters, all over town, really. It’s our thing, we don’t see many visitors.” 

Minho's arm was still sling around his shoulders and it did nothing to calm his beating heart. 

“Are you guys living here? In this hotel?” Minho asked and Goggles nodded, “Why?”

“Our houses got overrun and so did our school, there was hardly anywhere else to go.” Crowbar said, rolling his eyes. Jisung glared again and Goggles sent him an apologetic look.

“Changbin, behave.” Goggles reprimanded his friend. The name almost flew right over Jisung’s head, but he managed to catch it just in time. He’d heard that name before.

“Changbin…” He trailed off, sizing up Crowbar slowly, “Are you by any chance, Felix’s Changbin?”

Crowbar—Changbin—looked up in pure shock. Even Goggles looked surprised, though a little more out of the loop than his friend.

“Lee Felix? You know him?”

“We’re staying with him. At the ranch.” 

Changbin slapped his palm flat against his forehead. He groaned when it made contact, dragging it the rest of the way down his face. Jisung just cocked an eyebrow. 

“Of course, he stayed at his grandmother's ranch, didn’t he? I should’ve known. I figured he got called back to his country when the outbreak happened, but it makes so much sense.” Changbin babbled on and his friend was looking more confused by the minute.

“He has a sniper now that helps him guard the ranch. His name is Hyunjin.” Minho piped up, tugging Jisung closer without really realizing it. Jisung tensed.

“Hyunjin is with him?” Changbin’s eyes almost popped out of his head, “How is he? How are both of them? Are they safe?” 

“Why don’t you come see for yourself.” Jisung felt the words leave before he had even registered what he was saying. What was this new habit and picking up strays? He had a problem forming.

“Can we?” Changbin shared, mouth agape. His friend beside him looked hopeful at the mention of a ranch and protection. Jisung assumed the boards were from them and that couldn’t mean the hotel was all that safe. 

Was it a good idea? In retrospect, probably not. Was he still slightly pissed about the crowbar that almost went through his head five minutes ago? Most definitely. 

“We’re on our way to some market, if you want to tag along.” Minho let his hand fall from around Jisung’s shoulders, the younger finally letting out a sigh of relief. His skin still burned from where Minho’s hand had been and it was a little harder to push down the implications of that this time.  _ Focus.  _

“Oh, the Red Market? Yeah, we know it.” Goggles said. He began walking backwards, back to the hotel room they were holed up in. 

“Changbin, you go with them to the market, I’m going to stay here and dismantle the traps.”

Changbin looked like he was about to protest, but his friend urged him forward with the hopeful glint in his eye. He sighed, turning back to Minho and Jisung.

“Let’s go, the market has been closing earlier than usual these past few weeks.” Changbin began walking, only to stop himself halfway down the hall. He turned, looking back to the hotel room.

“Seungmin!” He called out and Goggled popped his head around the doorframe, “Here. Take this, you’ll need it.” 

He threw the crowbar right into the kid’s hands.

They exited the hotel the same way they’d come in, narrowly avoiding traps they’d missed before. Changbin laughed each time Jisung scowled at the nets on the ceiling. Jisung didn’t.

They led him out to the van, where Changbin was all too excited to rush in and check it out. He elected to sit in the middle and show them where the market was. He was still messing with buttons and other controls when they started driving.

“Did you guys steal this or what?” Changbin asked, messing with the radio buttons. Jisung swatted at his hand.

“No. We stayed in a prison for about a week and took one of the vans when we left.” 

“Isn't that technically stealing?” Changbin smiles slyly, his grin only growing when Jisung closed his eyes for a moment and had to breathe deeply.

“Isn’t staying in a hotel room without paying for it also  _ technically _ stealing?” He retorted and Changbin grinned even wider. Minho chuckled on the other side of him, shaking his head. 

The Red Market was surprisingly nothing like Jisung expected. There were several booths lined up, much like farmer’s markets used to be. Some people were trading weapons, some trading food and others trading little things like coloring books and pencils. Changbin hopped out of the van, immediately making a stride for the weapons booth.

“My my my, what goods have you come to offer me today?” He leaned up against the booth, his elbow resting on the table. The booth owner raised an eyebrow at him, unfazed by the boy. 

“Aren’t you a little old to be playing with toys?” The booth owner glanced past Changbin’s figure, his eyes landing on Minho and Jisung. He looked back at the boy leaning up against his booth.

“Never too old to play with  _ these  _ toys,” Changbin answered, holding up one of the pistols for emphasis, “besides, I’ve brought you customers.” 

The booth owner snatched the pistol out of Changbin’s hand, sitting it off to the side with a roll of his eyes. He turned his attention fully to the pair standing in front of them. 

“Nice to meet Changbin’s friends, I thought he only had the one but this is a nice surprise.” He deadpanned and Jisung immediately decided he liked this guy.

“Guys, this is Yeosang. Yeosang this is… well, I actually don’t know their names, but this is two random guys who wandered into the hotel!” 

Yeosang rolled his eyes, cutting them toward Changbin and back to the two in front of him. His gaze seemed to say  _ get a load of this guy.  _ Jisung could barely contain his snicker.

“Nice to meet you, I’m the shop owner.” Yeosang extended his hand and Jisung was quick to grab it. 

“Nice to meet you too, I’m one of the random guys who wandered into the hotel, Jisung for short.” 

Yeosang grinned, shaking his hand and turning to Minho. The older man took his hand with a pretty smile.

“And I’m the other random guy who wandered into the hotel, though people usually call me Minho to save time.” 

Changbin groaned as they introduced themselves, moving around the back of the booth to pick at the gadgets. Yeosang caught him by the collar, picking him up and moving him outside of his booth once again.

“Are you going to buy anything or did you come here to get on my nerves?” Yeosang leaned against the side of his own booth, his eyes trained on Changbin.

“I actually came to visit Wooyoung, so don’t go thinking you’re too special.” Changbin poked Yeosang’s cheek, who immediately slapped his hand away.

“Well, you know where to find him. Just don’t steal anything or he’ll talk my ear off about it for hours.” Yeosang ducked back into his booth as a small group of travelers walked up. Minho and Jisung stepped out of the way, hanging next to the booth like Changbin.

“I told him it wasn’t me last time.” Changbin whined. Yeosang accepted the group’s money, laying a pistol and a box of ammo on the table in front of him. 

“Yeah, well, he doesn’t believe you.” 

Changbin said his goodbyes to Yeosang, immediately changing his direction to another booth. This one was more inviting, the table filled with brightly colored fruits and surrounded with cans of various kinds. The man behind it wore a bright smile, long dark hair pinned back out of his eyes. He grinned wider when he saw Changbin approaching. 

“There he is!” The man said, thrusting his hands out in front of him in a grand welcoming, “My favorite thief has returned. Tell me, what have you gotten your hands on today?” 

Despite his words, the man wasn’t condescending in his tone. He was joking, oddly enough, considering his calling Changbin a thief. Jisung decided that this must be Wooyoung.

“Hey Woo,” Changbin slipped up next to the booth, coins in hand, “nice to see you again. And just for your information, I am not the person who stole from you last time.” 

“Ah,” Wooyoung nodded, a thoughtful expression crossing his face, “your accomplice then? It was a smooth take, I’ll give him that.” 

“Seungmin doesn’t steal.” Changbin pouted. Jisung watched their interaction closely, the way they chatted and moved like friends who had known each other a long time. He wasn’t sure how true that was. 

“Seungmin doesn’t  _ look _ like he steals. He doesn’t look like he does much of anything, but you and I both know that isn’t true.” Wooyoung teased, then he seemed to notice the other two, “I’m being rude, my apologies. I’m Wooyoung. Are you Changbin’s friends?”

“We’re just some random guys who wandered into the hotel.” Jisung replied, watching Changbin roll his eyes. Wooyoung didn’t seem to understand  _ exactly  _ what that joke meant, but he chuckled anyway.

“Well, I hope he’s been treating you kindly. He wasn’t always this hospitable.” Wooyoung clapped his hand on Changbin’s shoulder, sending a smile their way. Changbin shoved him off. 

“Anyway, I think they need some supplies. Kind of why you come to the market, you know.” Changbin cut their conversation short, making Wooyoung giggle and reach under the table. He produced a cardboard box filled with canned foods, fruits, vegetables, chicken and an unmarked bottle.

“What’s that?” Jisung pointed at it and Wooyoung picked the bottle up to show him.

“It’s just a small bottle of painkillers. Everything is over the counter, nothing prescription. A lot of people are having to amputate limbs nowadays, it’s not pretty.” He let the bottle fall back into the box, reaching over and taking Changbin’s handful of coins. 

“We have money, we can pay.” Jisung started reaching into his pocket, but Changbin waved them off. 

“Seungmin and I are tagging along with you guys back to the ranch, the least we can do is pay for a small box of food. I haven’t seen Felix in years.” Changbin picked up the box, holding it close to his chest as a protest. Jisung didn’t like receiving favors, but he was willing to let it slide.

“Felix?” Wooyoung perked up at the name, “Like Lee Felix? Foreign exchange student with the freckles?” 

“Yeah, apparently he and Hyunjin have been staying at his grandmother’s ranch this whole time.” 

“Really? I thought he got called back.”

“Me too. Apparently, he never actually boarded the plane.” 

Wooyoung and Changbin chatted for a little while longer, before they said their goodbyes and headed back to the van. They put the box of food in the back, driving back to the hotel where Seungmin was standing outside. He was holding 3 boxes of his own, the crowbar still in hand.

“What’s all that?” Jisung asked through the window. Seungmin paid him no mind, moving to the back of the van and sitting the boxes down. He climbed in after them, Changbin squeezing past Minho to do the same.

“The traps.” He said simply, closing Minho’s door. Jisung shot Minho a look and the older returned it with a quiet laugh.

“Tell me why we just adopted the cast of  _ Home Alone  _ into the back of our van?” 

Minho snorted. 

“Hope Felix’s house is ready to hold seven people with various ranges of mental sanity.” 

+++

In the end, the reunion was exactly what Jisung had expected it to be. 

Felix had quite literally burst into tears when he ran out of the house and saw Changbin hop out of the back. Hyunjin had even left his post at the window to run down and greet him. They had all embraced each other immediately, Jisung, Minho and Seungmin hanging back while they did so. Jeongin peeked his head out halfway through the greeting, then ducked back in when he saw the amount of hugging and crying. 

They left the other three to unload the van, not that they minded all that much.

“You don’t know who Felix is, do you?” Jisung asked, watching Seungmin pick through one of his trap boxes. He looked up, dark curls bouncing against his forehead.

“I do not.” He said simply, continuing to sort through the box. The goggles on his head bounced every time he moved his head.

“How do you know Changbin?” Jisung continued his questioning, finding Seungmin interesting. The boy picked up what looked like a mouse trap, letting it go off before resetting it and nodding in approval.

“I was on a poorly-timed family vacation when everything happened, hence the hotel. He got stuck in one of my traps one day, like you did. We teamed up naturally, and I taught him about traps.” He shrugged, pulling out multiple little gadgets that Jisung couldn’t even think of the names of.

“Do you build your own traps from your own equipment?” When Seungmin nodded, Jisung looked out to the fences, “Do you think you could build some around the fences? I know Hyunjin is a skilled sniper, but he’s at his post almost all night from the looks of it.”

“You think my traps could help him?” Seungmin squinted against the sun, resembling a very happy dog. Jisung nodded.

“I’ll chat with Felix later about it. He’s the one with the freckles, right?” 

Jisung laughed, nodding at Seungmin’s confusion. He suddenly remembered something and excused himself from Seungmin, walking into the barn to find Minho stacking the boxes.

“Hey Scarecrow,” Jisung laughed when the older startled, “I have an idea, you want in?” 

The tool box in the corner looked most appealing and he crossed the room to quickly grab it up. It had everything he was sure he was going to need, along with some other things he didn’t recognize.

“Are you crazy?” Minho laughed, his expression bright under the dim light, “Of course I want in.” 

He led him out to where the truck was parked, opening the hood again and handing the box to Minho. They worked while Seungmin sat beside the van, reconstructing some of his traps and using the box occasionally for adjustments. 

Minho stood beside him the whole time while he worked, cracking jokes and asking questions even when Jisung knew he didn’t really care. He appreciated the company, and he didn’t allow himself to think twice about the look Minho regarded him with when he complained about the truck motor.

“I’m going to go get something to drink,” Minho stood up, stretching his arms over his head, “I'll be right back.”

Jisung nodded, continuing to work through the grease on his arms. He was almost certain he had this thing figured out and could fix it in just twenty more minutes. He heard the door to the house close in the distance and Seungmin suddenly whistled.

“Woooow,” He drawled, amusement clear in his voice, “you two are friends?” 

“Yeah.” Jisung threw a glance back at Seungmin, obviously confused by the question. The boy laughed, his hands going back to setting his traps.

“Interesting.” He remarked, setting off one of the traps experimentally, “God let patience prevail.”

“Do we not seem like friends or something?” He didn’t think he and Minho acted weird around each other. Sure, it had been uncomfortable in the beginning, but it wasn’t now. Now, it seemed like Minho had always been there, had always been right by his side with his annoying habit of not eating meat and his off-the-wall theories that Jisung pretended to hate much more than he actually did.

“I don’t think you want me to answer that question.” Seungmin replies. Now, Jisung was thoroughly confused.

“And why is that?”

“Something about your cluelessness has  _ got  _ to be intentional, so I’m choosing to let you live in peace.” 

Jisung didn’t get a chance to ask what that meant, not that he really wanted to. Seungmin was right on some accounts, though acknowledging those accounts defeated the purpose of them. Minho was running out of the house now, three glasses in his hand and a ridiculously large smile on his face.

“Felix made lemonade!” He handed out the glasses, making himself comfortable on the patch of grass beside where Jisung worked. 

Seungmin dropped the conversation all together, worrying about the strings on one of his traps. Jisung worked a little while longer, in which Minho looked on with curious eyes. 

“Okay, I think I’ve done it. Minho, get behind the wheel and try to start it.” 

Minho happily stood up, placing both their glasses by his side and getting in the drivers seat. He waited for Jisung’s cue and then, he turned the key.

The truck roared to life, alongside the cheers and shouts of the two boys. Minho immediately flew out, his arms wrapping around Jisung with an excited “you did it!” The younger stood, frozen for a second before he was able to process what was going on.

He laughed awkwardly, patting Minho’s back and trying to block out his reddening cheeks and Seungmin’s smug expression. Minho pulled back, his hands clapping together enthusiastically.

“Felix is going to be  _ so  _ happy.” 

Felix was, in fact, so happy to hear the truck up and running again. He didn’t stop saying thank you for hours, not even when he was cooking dinner for the seven of them, or when he was running around upstairs trying to make all the beds so everyone had a place to sleep. He didn’t stop even when Jisung insisted he hadn’t done anything special and that the only problem had been water in the gas tank. 

Regardless, Felix insisted they all camp out in the living room for the night, in celebration of the reunion and the fixing of the vehicle. Nobody protested to that and as soon as dinner was over, they were crowding around the fireplace with their blankets.

“To the angel Jisung,” Felix raised his glass of lemonade in the air like he was making a toast, “I don’t know your family name, but only good things have happened since we met you.”

Jisung laughed, the circle around him raising their glasses as well.

“It’s Han,” He said, raising his glass as well, “My family name is Han.” 

“To the angel Han!” 

Conversation went smoothly as it usually did. Hyunjin was absolutely enthralled with Seungmin and his traps. Felix and Changbin hadn’t stopped talking since being reunited and the remaining three were totally fine pitching in occasionally.

Soon, Felix started asking questions and Changbin began to explain what life had been like the last two years for him. It was a rough story, about the horrors of the hotel and the reasons behind the bloody hotel rooms they had passed. It sparked a different conversation, about all of their lives.

“It’s not anything interesting,” Seungmin shrugged when it was his turn to share, “I was a star student, planning to go into law. Just fucks with me when I think about how much time I poured into it, only to face the end of the world my senior year of high school.” 

Minho snorted from Jisung’s right side.

“Yeah. I felt that. I studied my ass off for four years, joined three clubs and acted as the student medic for the football team all so I could get into vet school.” Minho shook his head, his glass coming to his lips.

“Did you get in?” Felix asked.

“Yeah.” He laughed bitterly, “Yeah, I did.”

“What about you, Jisung?” Hyunjin piped up, his arm resting on Seungmin’s shoulder. Jisung looked around the circle, unsurprised to see multiple inquiring faces.

“Nothing compared to you guys.” He shrugged, trying to remember any ambitions he might have had, “I didn’t work that hard in school, I just kind of floated through it.”

“What about anyone you left behind?” Felix questioned, his eyebrows drawn together. Jisung assumed they probably thought he was being secretive, not that he was just boring.

“No one really.”

“No one you wonder about?”

“Well.” Jisung took a deep breath, “I wonder about my friend, Adam, sometimes. But he was tough, I don’t doubt he’s okay, wherever he is.” 

“I’m sure he is,” Felix said with a smile, “is there anybody else you wonder about?”

“Not really.”

“Not really?” 

“There was this one kid but… we weren’t really friends per se.” Jisung tried to keep his gaze steady on the floor, tried not to look up and have his eyes immediately drawn to Minho. 

“Was he like your friend in terms of surviving?” Felix swirled the ice around the bottom of his glass. His eyes watched Jisung though, almost knowingly.

“I don’t really know,” Jisung answered honestly, “I couldn’t really gauge that from what I used to know about him. But I like to think he’s doing alright.”

He was doing alright. It was true that Jisung didn’t know enough about Minho to know how he survived two years of the apocalypse, how he still remained timid and positive. It was true that the day they officially met stumped Jisung often, because Minho had grown, yet not in the way most people had. He wasn’t a survivalist, but he was a survivor.

“Jeongin?” The topic shifted to the boy on Jisung’s left. The youngest glanced up, his lighter in hand as he opened and closed it repeatedly. 

“Yeah?” He sounded bored. Though, Jisung was used to that tone.

“What was your life like?” 

Jeongin sighed. He looked down at the lighter, the flames burning the tips of his fingers each time he flicked it open. The burn didn’t seem to bother him in the slightest.

“I was sixteen when it broke out, locked myself inside my house and waited for my parents to return from their jobs in the city. They never did. I took what the place could give me and then I torched it. It’s been surviving since then.”

“Is there any chance they’re still alive?” Minho cut in, “Your parents?”

“Nah.” Jeongin took a deep breath, though it was hardly to calm himself and more as a prep, “The city was locked down and quarantined. That’s why it got overrun with rotters within a few days. A bunch of infected people in one area. Must’ve been hell.”

The circle restarted, setting off a chain of childhood stories and embarrassing moments from their lives before. They avoided topics about the apocalypse, focusing mostly on travel experiences and middle school fails. Felix being from Australia kept the conversation alive as he described the places he went and the tourist attractions he could think of. 

Changbin was the first to fall asleep, Hyunjin not far behind. Jisung was only half-surprised to find out Hyunjin was a cuddler when he pulled Seungmin down with him. Felix was next, and then Jeongin. Jisung lied down, but he didn’t sleep yet. Minho wasn’t asleep either.

“You awake?” Minho whispered, his voice hanging mid-air. Jisung considered moving back to the room they shared, but he decided against it last minute. 

“Yeah.” He said, instead. 

“I just…” Minho sighed heavily, his hands coming up to his face and running down his features, “The camp. We’re still going, right?”

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t we?”

“Because,” Minho whispered, turning over to face Jisung even though Jisung himself was still laying on his back, “this is the perfect place. It’s got good defenses that will last a while, electricity, food. It’s the best option we’ve got but…”

“But it doesn’t have your mom.” Jisung finished for him.

“I have to keep looking for her, Jisung. I have to  _ know.” _

“I know.” And he did know. Despite Minho’s antics and his weird habits, he understood him. “If I thought there was any chance my brother was still alive, I’d want to know too.”

“Who’s to say there isn’t?” 

“Me. I know my brother and he wouldn’t have made it alone.” Jisung pushed his thoughts to the back of his mind. He refused to open that can of worms. All it would bring was pain, and there was no need for dwelling on such things.

“People said the same thing about me,” Minho continued, his voice soft and smile even softer, “but I did.”

Jisung smiled fondly. “You did.”

A beat of silence stole the room, the crackle of the fire reminding Jisung that this was real. They could hear the muffled noises of crickets just outside the house windows. It was calming.

“You don’t have to come with me, you know.” Minho sliced through the quiet, “To the camp, I mean.”

“Why wouldn’t I? I’ve been saying this whole time I would.” Jisung was confused. Did Minho no longer want him to come. That was fine, he supposed.

“I know I kind of leeched on to you.” Minho grinned, lightly punching at Jisung’s shoulder, “You didn’t want a traveling partner, or anyone else. And now we’re sharing a ridiculously big house with five other boys.”

Minho was right in that respect. Jisung hadn’t wanted a partner, he didn’t see people as necessary. He assumed in a lot of ways, his ideals hadn’t changed. Only now, he understood why people kept other people around. 

“It isn’t what I wanted, but it may have been what I needed.” He saw Minho smile at that, “Believe or not, I don’t hate all of you.”

“I know you don’t.” He answered quickly, “I’m just saying, if you’d rather stay here and not risk it, I can go alone.”

Minho was giving him an out. It was a subtle question, a subtle way of offering to part ways. If Minho found his mom at the camp, there was no guarantee he would return. No guarantee they’d let him return to the ranch.

The thought of getting back on the road when everything was laid out for them here wasn’t appealing, but the thought of never seeing Minho again, never knowing was less appealing. If he went with Minho, he would know he was safe and that everyone at the ranch was too. The answer was obvious.

“I’m going with you.” He said and Minho seemed shocked to hear it, “I didn’t want a partner, but I needed one. Now, I have one. It would be straight up stupid to let my partner go alone.”

Minho’s eyes sparkled.

“I suppose you’re right.” 

Jisung looked back at the ceiling, humming to himself.

“I’m always right.”

“Half of the time.”

“ _ Most  _ of the time.”

“Okay, I’ll give it to you.”

Jisung shot Minho a look, his hand reaching and slapping his arm. Minho giggled, moving out of the younger’s reach. His face was illuminated by the fire light and for once, just once, Jisung allowed the dam to fall.

He allowed himself to think the thoughts he often stored away for later dates that would never come, allowed himself to look at the things he kept his eyes away from. He allowed himself to feel, to be human.

Minho. Minho, who was nice and caring and kept his morals even during a time when they were a luxury. Minho, who felt protection for a kid who had almost let him die. Minho, who teamed up with and trusted Jisung after knowing him for five hours. Minho, who bandaged a complete stranger with his own supplies. Minho, who was gorgeous in every sense of the word, who was kind and forgiving and had a heart of gold. 

Minho, who Jisung spent most of his high school career watching, crushing on. Minho, who he described in detail whenever Adam asked his type. Minho, who despite being stuck in the middle of a constant fight for life, had completely captured Jisung’s attention.

Everything was Minho. 

He didn’t feel scared like he thought he would, didn’t feel the need to get up and run away. His parents had put emphasis on emotions since he was young, not to show them and not to ever speak of them. He trained himself to always keep his face neutral, his words empty and his thoughts controlled. He trained himself to look danger in the eye and spit in it. But it wasn’t danger he was looking at now, it was just a boy.

He no longer needed to hide it. And that didn’t feel scary… it felt freeing. 

“Like it’s up for debate.” He scoffed, allowing himself to genuinely smile. Because he was happy right now and there was nothing wrong with showing that.

“Considering you went from  _ all  _ to  _ most,  _ I’d say it was up for debate.” Minho responded, turning his head and seeing Jisung smiling. He grinned back, looking giddier than he had ever before. 

“Hey Minho,” Jisung started, watching the elder raise his eyebrows to show he was listening, “why don’t we stay here for a few more days. We can make sure we have enough water and food and rest and then we’ll hit the road again. Okay?”

Minho watched him with a strange gleam in his eye, one Jisung could never decipher for the life of him. He was smiling too, like he had never been happier in his life than to be laying on a hardwood floor in a pile of blankets with strangers.

“Okay. But make it a week. I like it here.” 

Jisung laughed. 

He’d give it a week, and then it would be onto the next chapter. He wouldn’t be alone this time.

+++

Jisung told Felix the news before a week had passed. He was wry about it, but he didn’t try to stop them. Instead, he insisted they eat well and sleep a lot before their upcoming trip. This meant no outside work. 

Seungmin and Hyunjin had been geeking out over a motion sensor trap for days now, holed up in Hyunjin’s room as they went through trial and error. Changbin was helping too, though he mostly free up the plans for the trap while Seungmin built it. The three of them working together made quite the team. 

Jeongin found that he liked tending to the chickens, not only for collecting eggs. He made little collars for them, which Jisung found ridiculous, oddly enough adopting one of his own. He called her Chidi.

Felix was apparently an explosives expert, and he was able to give his two sense to some of the ideas Changbin had for the traps. He revealed that the lumps in the ground outside the fences were land mines he’d planted in case a horde found itself drawn to the ranch. He had the button to detonate them at any moment. 

Once a week had passed, and Jisung loaded up the van with enough supplies for the trip, they were preparing to say their goodbyes. He didn’t do hugs, so he just awkwardly shook hands with everyone. Minho was different and hugged each of them.

“I want to come with you.” Jeongin said when they got to him. 

“We’ll come back, it’s like an extended town run.” Jisung said, an unspoken promise hanging in the air.

“I know. I still want to go though.” Jeongin said, looking Jisung straight in the eyes, “I never thought I would say this but I don’t totally hate the two of you and I’m concerned something will happen.” 

“Nothing’s going to happen to us, Jeongin.” Minho cut in, rubbing Jeongin’s head fondly. The youngest swatted him away.

“You’d better come back or I’ll personally find you and put your heads on sticks.” 

They both laughed. After everyone had said their temporary farewells, they climbed in the front seat of the van, taking the same path they usually did on town runs back to the main highway. As the ranch faded in the distance of the rear view mirror, Jisung felt his heart speed up. He would return, he had to.

Being back on the road with just Minho was definitely a change of pace. Since Changbin and Seungmin joined their group, there was never a dull or a quiet moment. But with Minho, there was a second to breathe. He liked that. 

They drove for a long time, almost the entire day. They had passed through several towns, and from the signs, they could see that they were close to the border. As night was falling, they pulled onto another backroad, sparking a camp fire and sharing a log they found. 

Minho excuses himself to go to the bathroom and Jisung stayed by the fire and the van. Several minutes passed and Minho wasn’t back yet. It was a stupid decision, especially because he couldn’t see, but Jisung didn’t really think that much about it. 

He got to his feet, traveling a little ways away from the campfire and calling out Minho’s name. There was no sound for a second and then the rustling of leaves. 

“Thought you had gotten lost.” Jisung remarked, seeing a figure walk toward him. It got closer and closer, hidden but the shadows, until it was just close enough for the fire light to fall over it. That’s when he realized it wasn’t Minho, it was a zombie.

The infected reached for him, his body immediately falling to the ground as he struggled. The weight of it was so much heavier than he had thought and he was actually having trouble sliding the thing off of him. It was biting at him, trying with all its might to sink it’s teeth into his skin. This was it, he was really going to get bit or eaten by this thing. 

One second, the weight and jaws of the zombie was there and then the next, it wasn’t. Jisung blinked away his surprise, finding Minho pinning the zombie to the ground. Or at least, attempting to. 

It slipped out of his grasp and Minho flew back away from its open jaws. He was up against a tree, the zombie coming at him full force. 

All Jisung could focus on was the way the zombie bent, bringing its mout down to Minho’s exposed arm. It’s jaws were wide open and Jisung couldn’t bare to watch. In the next second, the zombie hit the ground.

Minho had his knife in hand, coated in the zombie’s blood. He was frozen, the hole in the zombies head leaking out a thick substance similar to blood all over his shoes. He slowly turned to Jisung, chest heaving and dropped his knife. That triggered Jisung to move.

“Oh my god, oh my god, no. No, no no.” He immediately rushed to Minho, kicking the corpse out of the way and grabbing at his friend. No. He couldn’t lose Minho. This wasn’t real, none of this was real. 

“Hey. Hey Jisung,” Minho’s palms were cold against the side of his face, his voice sounding strained, “it’s okay. It’s okay, I’m okay.” 

He showed both his arms. Clean. The skin was clean.

“It’s teeth grazed my arm but it didn’t break skin. I’m not bitten. I’m okay.” 

Jisung started at the clean skin, his heart beating in his throat as he sighed in relief. He didn’t care about the specifics right now, he just knew he wanted to hug him. So, that’s exactly what he did.

Minho was stiff for a few seconds, clearly take. aback by his sudden action. He melted into it only a second later, his arms wrapping around him and holding Jisung tight. 

“Don’t you ever do that again.” Jisung whispered right next to his ear. He felt Minho chuckle underneath him.

“What? Save your ass? He retorted and Jisung pulled away only to hit him on the shoulder. They stood like that for a few more minutes, letting the events process and catch up with them. They were both remarkably tired, so they stomped out the fire and climbed in the back of the van.

“We’ve been driving all day.” Jisung yawned, laying back into the comfortable pile of blankets. It wasn’t anything near the mattress at Felix’s, but it would do.

“I think staying at the ranch has ruined your stamina. We used to do this every day for weeks.” Minho laughed, his back hitting the spot next to him.

“I know. It hasn’t ruined my stamina, just takes some getting used to again.” 

“Man,” Minho chuckled, “sometimes I wonder what you were like before the animal clinic.” 

The van fell into silence. Jisung comtemplated his next move. Maybe he was thinking irrationally, but he didn’t want to keep secrets from Minho anymore. Not after he’d just almost lost him.

“Hey Minho,” He began, voice shaking, “What high school did you go to?”

“Why?”

“Because I haven’t been completely honest with you and I think I should probably tell you.” Jisung was ringing his hands together when he said it, the nervousness in his voice probably clear as day. 

“I think I already know.” Came Minho’s whisper.

“What?”

“I haven’t been completely honest with you either, but I think it’s about the same thing.” Minho sajd. Even though Jisung couldn’t see his face in the darkness, he could imagine what it looked like. 

“We went to the same high school.”

“Yeah.”

“You remembered me and I remembered you but we both thought the other didn’t remember so we pretended not to recognize each other.”

“Yeah.”

“You bumped into me the day of the outbreak.”

“Yeah.”

“I had a crush on you in high school.”

“Yeah.” A beat of silence, “Wait, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“What?” Minho sat up. His gaze felt heavy on Jisung’s chest, even if he was looking at the ceiling and even if it was pitch black. He could feel the weights it out on him. 

“I had a crush on you in high school.” Jisung repeated.

“You—“ Minho stuttered, in disbelief, “You had a crush on  _ me?”  _

“Yeah.”

“I had a crush on  _ you _ in high school.”

Oh. Well, that was unexpected. Jisung felt himself sitting up too, facing near where Minho was. At least, he thinks that’s where Minho was.

“Well, that certainly does make things more interesting.” Was all he could think to say. The boy he’d liked for three years, the boy he’d spent so much time repressing his thoughts about was crushing on him back. How much easier high school would’ve been had he known.

“No shit.” Minho said and he began to recline his body before jerking back up, “ _ I’m  _ the saint?” 

Jisung nodded, before remembering that Minho couldn’t see him.

“Yeah. And  _ I’m  _ the kid you were too nervous to talk to?”

“Yep. God, this is going to be so embarrassing.” Minho takes his hands through his hair, finally laying back down. Jisung followed suit.

“What is?”

“Finding my mom. I used to tell her about you. Just wait until she hears about this.” He groaned, already dreading the humiliating comments and stories she would tell in Jisung’s presence. He  _ really  _ didn’t want to be around for any of those.

“Well now, I’m just interested in talking to your mom.” Jisung teased, laughing when Minho failed to punch his arm and hit his chest. 

“I swear. Once we find my mon and I find the cure, I’m going to beat your ass with everything I have in me.” 

Jisung went quiet for a moment. He actually let his thoughts process before he said them, which was more than he could say usually.

“You actually believe there’s a cure?” 

Minho went still.

“Yeah. I do.”

“Why?”

Minho inhaled deeply. 

“There has to be.”

“But what if there  _ isn’t?” _

“It’s just—“ Minho cut himself off, exasperation clear in his voice as he let out a frustrated groan, “there has to be a cure and I  _ have  _ to be the one to find it. It has to be me.”

“Why? Why does it have to be you?”

Minho was silent. Jisung figured he didn’t want to talk about it, figured he’d pushed too far. That’s what he gets for letting his emotions dominate things for a while. 

“Do you remember anything about the scientist who started all this?” Minho whispered, his voice faint. He sounded… hurt almost. Like he was recalling a painful memory.

“Not really. I remember his name. Lee Minyoung or something. Kind of hard to forget it when it’s the reason behind this whole thing.”

Minho audibly winced. Jisung waited for him to continue, patiently. 

“I have to be the one to find the cure.” He said, pain written all over his voice, “I have to be the one to end this to make up to mankind for what he started. What my father started.” 

Jisung let a beat pass. 

“Lee Minyoung was your  _ father _ ?” 

“He was too ambitious, always too ambitious. We never thought…” He was crying.

Jisung was never good at consoling people. When his brother had cried in his room over stress from his schoolwork, Jisung had wordlessly offered him a lollipop and walked out. When his friends cried at school over their twisted ankles, he had carried them to the nurse and left them there. He had never been excellent at consolation.

Still, he carefully and slowly wrapped his arms around the crying boy. He felt Minho’s body shake, though his tears were soundless. He wasn’t sure where to go from here, so he chose not to. He just sat there, holding him.

“It isn’t your fault.” He whispered after a long period of quiet, “What happened isnt your fault.”

“No,” Minho shook through his tears, his words strained and hollow, “but I have to fix this. I have to do something.”

“You’re staying alive through the end of the world, what you’re doing is enough.” He patted Minho’s back, probably a little too hard, 

“Dont worry, Minho. You know what they say, no good deed goes unpunished. Yours won’t either.”

+++

They had, of course, fallen asleep in that exact position and had, of  _ course,  _ woken up in the same one. They didn’t talk about it, really at all. Minho thanked him for the night before, his eyes still slightly swollen, but his gaze was full of hope, so much more than usual.

They drove again through a few more towns, getting closer and closer to the border with every passing hour. Minho could hardly sit still as they got closer, bouncing in his seat and smiling at every sign they passed. Jisung just watched him, amused.

They pulled into a small town just a few miles from the border, where Jisung wanted to see if there was any snacks they could find in the local grocer. Minho bounced along behind him, hardly even looking for snacks.

This town had a lot of houses right in the middle of it, sprinkled around the shops and the other establishments. It was pretty quiet, and they walked the streets without much thought. A door opened and closed from behind them and they were suddenly aware that one of the houses was occupied.

“If you’re looking for the Red Market, they don’t come until tomorrow morning.” A familiar voice called out to them. Jisung froze in his spot. He didn’t dare turn around, too afraid to be wrong and too afraid to be right. 

“You can stick around if you want, though the van might be hard to hide.” The owner of the familiar voice called out again, sounding much closer this time. To his right, Minho turned and he himself stopped. His gaze moved over to Jisung and the younger swallowed.

Slowly, he spun around toward the source of the voice, eyes squeezed shut. He crossed his fingers in a silent prayer, and then, he opened them. 

Adam. 

“Jisung?” 

Hearing his own name, hearing that _voice,_ it was all too much in the moment. For the second time in twenty four hours, he did something out of character. He flung his arms around Adam’s neck, hugging him close and the older boy immediately responded. 

“It’s so good to see you,” Adam whispered next to his ear, “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“I can’t believe it.” Jisung whispered back and he pulled out of the hug slightly to look at Adam’s face, “You’re here. You made it all the way here.” 

He could feel the wetness on his cheeks, could feel his tears drying and making his skin itch. He didn’t care about that right now, all he cared about was his friend, his friend who was  _ alive  _ and in front of him _. _

Adam had aged. His hair was longer, the worry lines in his skin more prominent than before. His face was skinnier too, probably from the lack of food supply. Aged or not, he was here, he was alive and Jisung couldn’t be happier.

“Minho, you remember Adam.” He gestured between them, pleased to see Minho smile politely and extend his hand. Adam shook it firmly.

“It’s nice to see you again, Minho. I’m glad you’ve made it.” 

“Likewise.”

“Oh! That’s my house, by the way.” He gestured back to the white two-story he’d emerged from, “Why don’t you two come in?”

They followed him inside, the smell of tea reaching their noses the second they stepped inside. Adam disappeared momentarily, telling them to get comfortable. He returned with array of tea cups and a satisfied grin.

“I would love to hear the stories about how you got here, but first I have to ask.” Adam picked you the teacup closest to him, “Where are you headed?”

“To the refugee camp on the border.” Jisung answered immediately. Adam took a sip of his tea, humming his approval.

“Ah, the camps. There’s a ton of people up there, but it’s really safe. The camp runners are so nice.” 

“So, you’ve been?” Minho perked up, carefully sipping at his own tea. He had already burned his tongue once. 

“Yeah. I can’t move there full time because my mother is sick and I don’t think she should be traveling.” He took another thoughtful sip of tea, “They’re not far away, just a few miles.” 

Minho looked over at Jisung, eyes hopeful. Jisung smiled back in return, trying to push down his natural instinct to just stare back. Minho seemed to appreciate his effort, his arm slinging around Jisung.

Adam quirked an eyebrow, his eyes immediately moving between the arm around his shoulders and Jisung himself. They would be talking about it later, for sure.

Adam invited them to stay the night, offering them dinner in cans and they gladly accepted it. Adam was an attentive host, always making sure they were comfortable and full. By the time it was dusk and the night had fallen, Adam led them up to the guest bedroom just off the staircase. There was hardly any room for a makeshift bed on the floor, but the large single bed in the middle of the room seemed to call their names.

Minho wanted to explode the upper level a bit more, so Jisung returned downstairs to thank his friend. Adam had, of course, waved him off.

“I didn’t even know if you had made it out of that school alive, Jisung.” Adam said with a shake of his head, “I knew you were tough, but this was unlike anything we’ve ever seen. I’m just glad you have Minho there with you to keep you sane.”

“Yeah, he’s the reason behind my insanity,” Jisung chuckled, settling into the chair across from Adam, “but I… like having him around. Sorry, I’m new to the whole emotional thing and I choke on words.” 

“How did this even happen? Last time I saw you, you were on the ground and  _ that  _ man was responsible for it.” Adam jabbed his thumb behind him, as if it wasn’t clear.

Jisung launched into a retelling of the clinic story, leaving out some of the more inappropriate jokes. Adam nodded along, laughing here and there about whatever. 

“So,” He started, glancing over his shoulder to make sure Minho wasn’t coming down the stairs, “I know you had a thing for him back then, don’t even try to deny it. But, what about now? Is there anything that carried over?” 

Jisung thought for a moment. He was honestly having quite a bit of trouble figuring that one out. Did he like Minho? It would make sense. He  _ had  _ liked him in high school and Minho was the only person he could really trust. His heart raced and his stomach did somersaults whenever the older did something as simple as throw his arm around him.

He had repressed hundreds of thoughts about the boy, all of them rushing to the surface at once. They were exploding out of him, like a jack-in-the-box. He liked Minho then and now.

“Yeah.” He said, taking a deep breath, “I like him.”

“Well, I hope you find your happiness.” Adam raised his empty tea cup, gathering up the dishes and bringing them to another bag. Minho came barreling down the stairs at that moment, grabbing Jisung by the hand and pulling him back up. He wanted to point out the twirly chandelier in Adam’s room. 

“I’m tired.” Minho said, barely containing his yawn. He dragged Jisung to the guest room, flopping down on the bed and sighing.

“It is pretty late, we should probably get some rest.” 

Apparently, getting some rest meant another late night conversation. Jisung found it weird that  _ this  _ of all things was their thing, but he didn’t want to push it to change.

They played games for a little while, then their laughter simmered down. The atmosphere changed and Minho turned over on his side, fully facing Jisung. The younger mimicked him.

“I have something to tell you.” Minho was smiling, his face looking absolutely ethereal in the moonlight coming through the window. It seemed like here, in this moment, there was nothing else happening in the world. No zombies, no life or death situations. Just them.

“More secrets?” 

“Yeah, last one I promise.” Minho giggled, then a thought occurred to him, “Just promise you’ll still be my partner after all of this?”

Jisung didn’t even have to think about his answer.

“Of course I will be.”

Minho took a deep breath, his cheeks reddening and eyes focused on the blanket pulled up to their chest. He seemed to battle with himself, turning thought after thought over in his head. He must’ve mad up his mind because he finally looked Jisung in the eye. His cheeks grew redder.

“I heard your conversation with Adam earlier.” He said cheekily, another smile spreading across his face slowly.

“Oh.”

“And I just wanted to say that I don’t… mind. At all.”

“Oh.”

“After all, I had a crush on high school Jisung.”

“Oh.”

“And I have a crush on current Jisung too.” 

“Oh? Oh.”

“Can you say something other than “oh”?”

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry.” Jisung shook his head freeing of all the damning thoughts that threatened to reach his mouth, “I’m sorry, I have no idea how to respond to this.”

Minho laughed, moving a little bit closer than necessary.

“Well, I like you and you like me.” Minho reached forward, his hand sliding into Jisung’s and interlocking their fingers. Jisung felt his heart instantly start beating alarmingly fast.

“That is true.” He said, looking down at their interlocked hands. Was this actually happening? Was he dead? Why was he so fucking calm?

“Can I ask a risky question?”

“Yes.”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yes.”

Minho grinned and then, he surged forward. His lips were chapped and obviously not the epitome of perfection, but they were soft against Jisung’s. His heart was beating like crazy, but he had never felt more at peace.

Every thought that raced through his head on a daily basis suddenly melted away. Every time he repressed an emotion, every time he pushed down what he wanted to say. None of it mattered. He didn’t feel like he needed to prove himself, not here, not to Minho.

“I cannot believe it took a zombie apocalypse for me to do that.” Minho laughed against his lips. Jisung chuckled too, the exhaustion pulling at his eyelids only making him laugh more.

“Better than me at least. I didn’t do it.” 

They both giggled at that, foreheads leaning against each other in the most disgustingly sappy way possible. Happy. Jisung was happy. And he wasn’t hiding it. 

“Goodnight, my Tin Man.”

“Goodnight Scarecrow.”

+++

Adam woke them up bright and early in the morning, coffee in his hands and a grin on his face as he took in their compromising position. Minho’s arms were wrapped around his middle, his back to his chest. All Jisung could do is wonder when he ended up in a rom-com.

The coffee was sweet and fresh, and Minho began bouncing up and down when he realized where they were headed today. Jisung watched him fondly, openly. He was smiling. 

“What?” Minho cocked his head to the sight with a cute smile.

“Nothing. You’re cute.” Jisung let his words go, unfiltered. This seemed to please Minho who leaned forward and planted a chaste kiss on Jisung’s cheek.

“You’re cuter.”

“Hey you two, let’s go. The camps are waiting.” Adam poked his head in, a plate of fruit in his hand. They waved him off and he rolled his eyes.

“So.” Minho started once they were alone. Jisung didn’t try to stop his grin.

“So.”

“Are you…”

“Are we…”

They stared at each other until Minho broke into laughter, Jisung following. They were bad at this, terrible really. Conversations were never Jisung’s thing, he was always more of an action person. So, instead of saying what he felt, he got up, crossed the room and kissed him.

He pulled back after a second, feeling himself smile. Minho was smiling too, though there wasn’t a time when Minho didn’t smile. He was always happy, always wore what he felt right there on his face.

“So we are…” Minho was giggling, his joy so clear in every way. It was quite the contrast to Jisung, but he liked it. 

“Just say it, I know you want to.”

“Boyfriends! We’re boyfriends, aren't we?” He looked hopeful, rocking back and forth on his feet. Jisung just laughed.

“Yeah, yeah Min. We’re boyfriends.” 

He was happy. He felt happy and instead of ignoring it, he let it shine through. It had been a long time, too long since he had felt himself smile and not worried about what someone else was thinking of him.

He had a long way to go, a long time to figure this out. There was still the death of his parents and assumed death of his brother that he needed to work on, needed to let himself process. He had packed them away in little boxes to come back to later. It was later now. But he wasn’t afraid, not anymore. 

The drive there was short, only a few miles down the road like Adam had said. The borders looked shut down, and from far away, it was difficult to tell any sign of a camp. There was a woman in the toll booth, her hair tied up behind her and a friendly smile on her face.

Adam put the van in park, getting out to speak with her. She checked his arms, legs and any other part of his body that could be bitten, before sending him back. 

“She’s just checking for bites before waving us through.” Adam informed them and the woman waved at Jisung to come out next.

The woman didn’t make conversation as she checked over him, writing down all the marks on his body on the clipboard she was holding. He supposed that was mostly to keep track of injuries, it still made him uncomfortable, though. 

Minho was next and he had his arms held out before the woman even asked. She sent him a friendly grin, as she checked his hands. Minho was done and he climbed back in the van just before the woman opened the barrier.

The first thing they noticed was the amount of white tents set up in rows on either side of the van. People were walking around from tent to tent, chatting with each other and the people within the tents. There were people in lab coats, people in scrubs, people in everyday clothes, all intermingled.

They were waved through the makeshift town to a large building at the end of the white tent stretch. It was an old hospital no doubt, where another woman instructed them to leave the van behind and go in. They followed her directions, finding the hospital to be lit up with fluorescents that made their eyes sting.

Minho couldn’t keep still as they checked him for bites, and ran a blood test on them. Jisung didn’t like needles, so he chose to focus on something else while they took his blood. Minho was the best subject in the room and he smiled cutely when he caught Jisung’s gaze. 

Eventually, they were waved through again and more white tents were lined up at the back of the hospital. They could do nothing but watch in awe as people moved around. Adam was familiar with the place, more familiar than they were. He was chatting with one of the people in scrubs, easily picking up their conversation.

A man in the distance caught Jisung’s attention. The dark curls, the slight limp in his step were both too familiar to him. He watched the man go from booth-to-booth, until he turned around and showed those dimples on his cheeks. 

“Minho,” Jisung tapped Minho’s arm, “is that Chan?” 

Minho followed his gaze, curly dark hair coming into view clearly. He squinted, but as soon as the man laughed and began walking with his slight limp, he knew instantly that Jisung was right.

“Chan!” He called out and the older turned. He grinned upon seeing them, rushing over as fast as he could to greet them. They met him halfway, Minho with a hug and Jisung with a grin. Chan hugged Minho back, his laughter light.

“You two made it!” He enveloped them in a big hug, “Welcome to the camps.” 

The booths set up were like the Red Market. People had food of different kinds, bigger tents were closed off for medical care, and some had clothes and other supplies to give out. People were going as they pleased, like a festival of some kind.

“You guys probably need to eat something. Don’t worry, you aren’t the only ones, a group came in about an hour ago.” Chan led them back to one of the bigger tents, disappearing inside for only a moment before inviting them in. 

A long table was in the middle, filled with food and drinks. Two of the camp runners stood around the table, smiles on their faces and water in their hands. There was a group at the table, five faces they all knew. 

“How did you guys get here?” Jisung laughed, seeing Felix at the end of the table. The freckled boy giggled, standing up to greet them. 

“You guys took the long way here and added yourselves several hours. The ranch isn't  _ that  _ far away.” He pulled Jisung down beside him, Minho taking the seat opposite. 

“Why are you guys here? I thought the ranch—“

“The ranch is fine.” Hyunjin cut in, rolling his eyes at Jisung’s question, “We wanted to talk to the camp runners. About extending the camps to the ranch.” 

“You want to open the ranch?” 

“We have all that free space outside the fences,” Felix said, shoveling a piece of apple into his mouth, “they have the materials here to build two more houses out there. And we could supply them with food from the garden.” 

“That… sounds great actually. Who would live there though?” 

Felix grinned.

“I have a feeling I know a few people who would be up for it.” His eyes danced between Minho and Jisung and the latter shook his head. Of course, Felix had planned this out.

“On one condition,” Felix perked up when he said it, “our house has to be bigger than yours. Or at least as big!”

The group of them laughed, the plate of sliced fruit getting passed around. Hyunjin was complaining about getting one of his fingers cut by Seungmin’s trap. The latter insisted it had nothing to do with the trap and everything to do with Hyunjin having poor aim with the throwing knives. 

They ate and chatted the same way they had back at the ranch. Chan joined them this time, Adam too. They got along well with each other, everybody collectively joining in on the conversation. 

They were almost done with their food when the lady who had taken their blood came into the tent. She whispered something to her co-worker and then stood in front of the end of the table.

“Lee Minho?” 

“Yes?”

“Come with me.”

Minho threw a glance around to the rest of the group, cautiously standing up and following the woman out of the tent. Jisung day still for maybe three seconds before he was on his feet too. 

Minho smiled seeing him exit the tent and they fell into step. The woman leading them noticed Jisung’s presence, turning around to say something in protest. Minho grabbed Jisung by the hand.

“If I go, he goes.”

The woman snapped her jaw shut, looking between the two of them. She sighed.

“Alright then.”

They were led back into the hospital, past where the blood work and body examinations were taking place and straight up the stairs. They went up three flights before the woman pushed open the door and led them down the hall. She did everything silently, until they got to one of the hospital rooms. She knocked.

“There’s someone here to see you, Eunkyung.” 

The woman let them into the room, where another woman sat in the hospital bed. She was older, but nothing about her was frail. The woman looked every bit as tough as the scars on her arms.

“Mom!” Minho rushed forward, his arms encircling the woman. Jisung could just stand in the doorway, frozen. His mom immediately responded, arms wrapping her son in a tight hug. Soft whimpers came from both of them, tears staining their shirts. 

Minho’s mother cried into her son’s shoulder, repeating a phrase over and over that sounded like “my son.” Jisung just stayed in the doorway, trying to make a smooth exit without drawing their attention to him. He was unsuccessful, in the fact that Eunkyung’s eyes found him moving out and she offered him a small smile that was very much like her son’s.

“Darling,” She sniffed, pulling away from her son, “who have you brought with you?”

Minho laughed, soft and marked with tears. He brought his hand up to his face, wiping away the streaks on his cheeks. Jisung waited until he motioned him over. 

“Mom, this is Jisung. Jisung, this is my mom.” Minho sniffed again, the tears still collecting in the corners of his eyes. For someone who smiled a lot, it seemed his true happiness was shown through when he was crying. He was happier than Jisung had ever seen him.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Jisung waited for her to extend her hand, but instead, she opened her arms and hugged him. He was paralyzed for a moment, but he very slowly relaxed.

“Your name sounds familiar.” She said, pulling away from him. She cast a glance at Minho, silently asking a question. 

“He’s—uhm the guy.” Minho said, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck, “The one I wouldn’t stop talking about in high school.” 

“Oh!” His mother exclaimed and then she looked back at Jisung with purpose, “You did well. He’s very handsome.”

“Thank you,” Jisung laughed, throwing a glance back at Minho’s embarrassed face, “I'm just here to collect my credit for keeping him alive.” 

“In that case, I guess I should be thanking you.” 

“No need to thank me, it's a—“ He looked to Minho, who was watching them with a soft smile, “it’s kind of a boyfriend thing.”

Minho laughed, his mom doing the same. Jisung realized how much they sounded like each other, looked like each other. So many of his mannerisms were identical to his mother. 

The lady from before knocked on the door, appearing a second later with two crates in her hand. 

“I have the tests back. Everything is good with them, they’re healthy.” She sat the crates down next to Eunkyung’s bed, quickly excusing herself to let them continue. Eunkyung reached down, unlocking both the crates and three cats all climbed out of them. 

Two looked like twins, the same orange and white fur, while the other was gray. Minho immediately went to scoop them all, tears gathering in his eyes again. He held the cats close, trying to stop his tears from matting their fur.

“Oh my god. How did you…” He looked up at his mom through tear-filled eyes. They were spilling all over his cheeks as he ran his hands through their fur.

“You didn’t think I’d leave them behind, did you?” His mother scooped up one of the cats, the cat leaning into her hand that scratched behind its ears. 

“No. No, I didn’t but… thank you.” Minho wiped his eyes again, one of the cats climbing around his shoulders, “There's some people downstairs I want you to meet.”

His mother smiled, letting the cat walk over her legs and jump down to the floor. She pulled back the blankets, stepping onto the floor with careful steps.

“I’d love to.” 

+++

The camps were a temporary fix, but they were a start. 

The camp runners agreed to strike a trade deal with Felix and Hyunjin, and the construction of the second house began immediately. Felix extended his garden as well, growing the entire vegetable food group in his back lawn. It was alright though, because it provided them with enough food to trade while keeping some for the five people that lived in his house.

Of course, there was also Minho’s mother, who had moved into the now cleaned guest house. She and Jeongin tended to the chickens most often. 

The town runs were still frequent, Changbin usually going to bargain with Yeosang and Wooyoung whenever the Red Market stopped by. He almost never got the deals he asked for, but it was always worth a shot. 

Chan and Adam got along well, being two of the oldest of their newfound family and the guest bedroom at Adam’s was turned into Chan's space. His mother was getting better, but they were taking it one day at a time.

Then, there was Minho, Jisung and the three goblins that wreaked havoc on their newly built home. Seungmin has helped build the fence and had rigged it with traps of all kinds in case any rotters got too close. He and Hyunjin had a great time setting up a sniper’s post. 

They didn’t know what the future brought. Minho and his mother went to the camps often to work with the nurses on finding a cure. Whether or not there was one was up for debate, but they were learning not to dwell on such things.

Things weren’t perfect, they were far from it. 

But they were taking it one day at a time.

And all those things that humans said that didn’t make sense, seemed to make a little more sense each day. All good things must come to an end, but the end was far away. This wasn’t the end of the world, this was the beginning of a new one. This was a turning point, started by a few good people doing a few good deeds.

And no good deed goes unpunished.

  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I just want to say, I have been getting a lot of interactions since checkmate and I am very thankful for every single one of them, you guys are amazing. I also want to say, I am not a mean or rude person unless you know me irl, in which case, yikes. Anyway, I have a twitter which is the exact same as my username here, and if you want, you are welcome to visit. Come say hi, come hang out under my tweets or on the timeline, come join a groupchat or whatever, I follow back everyone because I’m here for friends, not fans. 
> 
> Point is, I write for me but I also write for you and while my twitter isn’t entirely (at all) professional, I do host polls and ask what you would like to see from me and I might even start opening for collabs and maybe commissions soon. And I’m not just a decent writer, I’m a very interesting person in my opinion SO the point of this whole thing is to please feel comfortable and welcome around me in every way. 
> 
> Thank you for reading, I hope you are all doing very well and taking care of yourselves.
> 
> \- Kenzi <3


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